Among The Brambles
by Nea's world
Summary: A glimpse into a brief time in the life of one elf as drastic changes occur, turning things upsidedown and inside out as old friends reappear, family issues are brought to light, and darkness begins to cover the land...
1. Old friends

General Disclaimer: I own nothing that comes from Tolkien. Nothing whatsoever. Anything that looks familiar, therefore, is not mine. Don't think it is. 

That said, most of the characters you'll run into—as far as I know so far—will be mine. 

I try to update stories at least once a week, but I have no internet access when I'm not a school, so breaks will always be utterly silent. Sorry—it isn't nice for me, either. Should you have a question, you can either review (preferred) or e-mail me. Either way I will get back to you within a few days, unless the unthinkable should happen and I'm flooded with reviews and e-mails, which isn't likely, considering my highest number of reviews so far has been fifty-nine. Still, keep beaks and finals in mind if you aren't responded to in reasonable time. 

As ever, ideas or corrections—grammar, tense, spelling, etc. are appreciated and encouraged. 

A little about this story: It is narrated by a rather confused elf… for reasons you will understand before long. Everyone's favorite elf prince is known to the narrator _only_ as Leaf. Together they made up a band of nine elves who played their youths away in the woods. I think that's enough background, at least for now. Enjoy! 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Sparks flew from the red-hot metal as I pounded it slowly into shape. The long, thin, curving blade was to be as thin and light as any other elven blade, so I had a good bit more work to do on it. Still, it was coming along nicely. 

After a few minutes the blade to be began to cool too much, so I set it back in the fire, moving to sharpen one of my completed blades. It's owner had dropped by yesterday to see how it was coming, and would return on the morrow to claim his sword. 

Hearing a voice I hadn't through the striking of hot iron, I glanced up and stilled. I studied the golden head for a while, let the voice rush over me, triggering millions of memories even as part of me denied it was him. 

A faint smile twitched his lips crookedly, and he glanced around the smith shop my master owned and minded, save come lunchtime. It _was_ him. He caught me staring, and arched a brow while looking at what of me he could see. 

I rescued the blade and set it aside, sweeping back my face guard. 

He blinked, tilting his head slightly to the side. Stepping forward, he began to smile. "Hello," he murmured softly, leaning against the doorframe that led to the labor section of the building. 

"Leaf," I murmured, nodding slightly. His smile widened, and in an instant our forearms crashed together, holding tightly as his free hand clasped my shoulder. 

"My dear friend," he agreed, joy sparkling in his bright blue eyes. "It has been much too long—it took me a moment to place you."

"My mind was half-sure my ears were deceiving me," I admitted in turn, before I looked him over as he swept an equal glance over me. "Are the halls as stuffy and boring as we always imagined?"

"Worse, sometimes," he grinned. "And are you the budding smith we have heard such wonders about?"

I laughed a bit ruefully. "That is doubtful. My father got me this place with Haradan when we left the wood, seeing as how I was useless anywhere else."

Haradan snorted from his place in the other room. "Useless," he grumbled. "He needs to have his head examined! Useless indeed!"

Leaf and I shared amused looks. "As you can see, being my master has in no way biased Haradan's opinion of my skills."

Leaf chuckled softly, before his sharp eyes spotted the cooling blade I had pulled from the fire. "I'm keeping you from your craft," he murmured, half apologetic. He nodded at the blade and walked slightly away from the spark-zone as I replaced my mask. He aimlessly studied examples of work that hung on the walls until I had finished, setting the rough blade aside. "Are these all yours?"

"Yes—Haradan's are in the other room."

"As would be expected," he agreed. "This blade," he murmured, pointing to one fairly intricate but extremely function dagger, "I saw it's mate by the door."

"Yes. Haradan made one, and I have made the rest." Haradan's, in truth, was a bit too ornate to be of use. I had trimmed the excess metal to lighten and balance the blade a bit better, and had received several orders for them.

"Then I should have brought my thanks to you," he murmured quietly. "It is the finest blade I have carried in many years," he praised, sliding one of my daggers from the sheath at his waist. 

I took it with a slight smile, flipping it quickly around my fingers to test it. "Already seen a good bit of use, hasn't it?"

"I don't know whether or not I should say unfortunately to that. I am glad to have had it…"

"But the circumstances for use have been lamentable?" I offered, able to read in the shadows that flittered over his face the cause for his hesitation.

He smiled thankfully. "Yes," he agreed, accepting his dagger, sheathing it fluidly. "So you do most of the work, anymore?"

"Unless Haradan is specifically requested." 

"Hmm… then have you any double blades made?"

"It is beyond rare for us to get requests for them," I answered in a bit of shock. "Only the guard use them, and they—"

"Tend to allow the hall smith to make them," he finished. He looked down at the blade I was cleaning, lifting it from me delicately with two fingers at the haft, and two under the blade. "It is perhaps more convenient, but his gifts run towards designing filigreed ornaments… while his results are of course beautiful, they lack the perfect balance any one who would lift a blade in earnest would desire." In demonstration he placed two fingers at the place the blade met the handle, showing off the perfection I had toiled to create. 

"And I am the only one you could ask?"

"No," he agreed easily, presenting me with the sword. "But you are the only one I've known since I wasn't even dwarf-sized."

"Our time in the wood means nothing when it comes to my skill here," I warned.

He gave me a fondly amused smile. "I can see where Haradan's training has let off," he murmured, "trying to scare away a paying customer."

"Trying to warn a friend not to place his trust in a task I have never attempted," I countered.

"Create a set," he coaxed softly, leaning in as if to keep this secret from Haradan—who I knew was already gone to lunch. "Send it up to the halls."

"And if it is below standard?" I challenged.

He smiled. "Then you will know how to better your skill for the next time, won't you?" He cast his eye around the room again, slowly nodding. "Send them up," he stated again, seeming quite pleased with himself. 

With a sigh I considered for an instant the trouble he was bringing upon me. I would have to figure a design, decide on the way I wanted to create the blades, the handles, the sheaths… how ornate to make them…

"Wind," he whispered softly, drawing my eyes up. His were sparkling with the old familiar challenge. "When shall I expect them?"

"When they arrive," I countered, knowing I was rising to the challenge he had laid merely to get me to design the blades, but unable to stop myself. "Have you seen any of the others?"

Some of the laughter in his eyes—from having succeeded, and knowing I knew it as well as he did—faded. "I have not seen any of them since we left the wood," he murmured with a shake of his head. "I have been busy, of course—as I suspect we all have." 

I nodded, accepting that. "We did guess that was how it would be."

"Yes," he agreed with a quiet sigh. "But it doesn't make it enjoyable."

After studying him for a while, I saw in his eyes what I knew he could see in mine—a longing for what had been. All of us had been so close, such friends as we might never be able to have again. Some part of me wanted to reach out to him, but too much was uncomfortable with that thought, so I looked at the blade I was finishing. "Perhaps in time we shall all meet again."

"Things won't be as they were," he countered, sounding incredibly morose. 

"This is hardly like you, Leaf," I remanded, blinking at his shadowed eyes. He looked like life had dealt him a harsher blow than he had been prepared for when he left the wood with the rest of us. 

"Yes," he whispered softly, "it is. But only seven other than you or I would know it… and they are no longer in a place to see it." He straightened and shook himself slightly. "I should head back," he murmured, "before I am missed." When his eyes lifted to mine I knew he was merely trying to escape the discussion, but I knew no other way out of it. 

Instead, I held out my hand, clasping his forearm as he returned it, both of us holding on a moment longer than was strictly necessary. "Well, you know where I am, Leaf," I offered.

He gave me a small, crooked smile. "And I shall undoubtedly use that knowledge to the fullest of my limited capabilities." His hand rested on my shoulder for a moment, before he bowed his head ever so slightly and released my arm, stepping back. Halfway out the door, he looked back. "I'll keep an eye out," he called. 

I rolled my eyes with a low growl, earning a chuckle from him as he stepped into the light. A moment after he was gone, I felt a smile curling my lips rather foolishly. I shook myself and turned back to the blades I was working on, each one in different stages. 

"Damn," I muttered without heat a while later. "That stupid elf," I growled, looking around for my sketch book, knowing now that I would be unable to work on the average, every-day tasks before me when one of my oldest and dearest friends had walked in off the street and ordered my skills put to use for him. 


	2. Orders from stiff elves

I looked up as a grim faced elf entered the shop. Haradan was out, so I had been left—with some protest on my account—to tend the shop on my own. "Yes?"

He blinked at me, seemed to size me up through the thick leather protective gear and the smears of soot and ash that were a perpetual part of my attire. "You created a set of daggers and sent them to the palace?"

"I did," I agreed with a frown. Were they that bad? I'd thought they were fairly good… in fact, though not well versed in that particular weapon, I had imagined them to be some of my finest work… not really surprising, since Leaf did have a way of pushing people to discover their limits and then to break them. But if this stony elf was here to denounce my work—

"I would like to order a set."

I blinked. "What?"

He shifted slightly. "You do take orders, don't you?"

"Uh… of course," I shook myself slightly. "You want to order a pair of daggers?"

"The double daggers, yes. You sent a set up—"

"I'm aware of that," I agreed softly. "You want them to be like those?"

He flushed slightly. "Similar," he hedged. "Not exactly, though."

"Uh…Of course," I agreed, still somewhat off balance. "Would you give me your name so I know who to send them to?"

He did, then stiffly muttered something about payment and escaped the uncomfortable prospect of talking to a normal being. 

How long I sat at the counter blinking in utter shock, I don't know. It was the first time someone had asked specifically for me to create something, entirely independent of Haradan's influence. Well, first time other than Leaf, and he didn't really count, since he had likely been just seeing if I could do it. Or, rather, if he could get me to do it.

My somewhat astounded musings were interrupted as two more elves, both with degrees of unyielding stoniness about them, entered the shop, looked hard at me, and then ordered themselves each a set of twin daggers. 

By the end of the day, I had more work than I could finish in a month lined up. All for the daggers, all 'similar' to that which I'd sent up to the halls for Leaf. Haradan looked at the order slips tacked to the door, and let out a low whistle.

"Busy day," he murmured. 

I glared at him. "Thanks to that no good Leaf!"

"Who?" he asked in some confusion. 

I smiled slightly, and shook my head. "An old friend. He came by and ordered a set of the double daggers the guard uses, and I've been swamped with orders since he got his."

"Then you must have done well," Haradan stated, looking at me in some reproach. "Should you fault him for approving of your work in such a way?"

"No," I sighed, "but he just set me up with work for a long while."

Haradan laughed softly and was about to say something else, when the door let in another group with that same wooden look to their features. "Ah! How may I help the King's guards today?" he asked, clasping his hands together in welcome and delight.

They shifted into the room, and looked about with a bit of confusion. "Is this the smith shop that is creating twin daggers for the halls?"

"Starting today," I grumbled, heading back into the workshop to get going on new designs.

"Forgive him, forgive him. Long, trying day of tending the shop while orders mount—letting me see my great-grandchildren, bless him. Now, how many orders will this be?"

I rolled my eyes and hid my grin. I didn't mind the work, really. It was minding the counter that I loathed. Haradan did it with all the charm and grace an old master at the art exuded at all times, letting me get away from the wooden elves and back to the much more yielding metal I was used to. 


	3. Arrowheads

"Wind?"

I faintly heard the call out of the corner of one ear, but continued working on smoothing out the edge of yet another dagger, too busy to think of anything but work, and annoyed by the fact. Damn and blast that elf—

"Wind!"

I snapped upright, clumsily dropping all my things to the table. With an annoyed curse I rescued them before the table could do more than begin turning a darker shade from the heat, and set the hot metal aside where it wouldn't cause damage. 

Leaf was watching me in utter and unconcealed amusement, one brow lifted with the corner of his mouth, giving him a crooked look that wasn't averted any by the way he lounged in the door. "Hi," he murmured laconically.

"Hi," I snapped, scowling at him. "You got me into one hell of a mess, Leaf."

"How's that?" he asked, the brow hiking as he straightened, beginning to frown. 

"Look at all those orders! I'll be living by this fire for the next three months, if not longer—and that only if no more of your hall buddies decide they want something 'similar' to what I sent up for you!"

His frown left, the slight concern in his eyes fading as his grin grew. "So…?"

I rolled my eyes with a growl and returned to finish sharpening the one set I had completed. "It's your fault," I grumbled.

He laughed softly and shook his head. "Only you, Wind," he teased, "would be upset about getting business."

"That's basically what Haradan said," I admitted, relenting enough to smile slightly.

Leaf chuckled and glanced at the order slips on the door. "You may be getting a few more… but the rest are pretty loyal to the hall smith."

"Thank the Valar for small miracles. What'd you do—show everyone you met your new toys?"

"Sort of," he agreed with a grin, lounging against the wall. "We had a tournament—you may have heard…" he paused and looked at me. 

I nodded shortly. "I doubt any smith hasn't." In fact, those with their designs in use usually made a point of going.

He nodded in agreement and glanced at the blade I was working on. "I improved drastically in one area—and everyone could see why. They asked where I got my blades. What was I to do? Lie?"

I heaved an irritated sigh, but my heart wasn't in it. "Utter truth?"

"Entirely," he agreed with a grin, his eyes sparkling as he saw I was pleased by his tale. "I came to thank you… and warn you that you might be getting some orders… I'm apparently too late."

"No kidding?" I muttered sarcastically. I wrapped the finished set and tossed them to him, giving him the name. 

"Glorified delivery elf," he sighed without irritation, tucking them under his arm after examining the blades. "You know, I could use a—"

"Save it. Give me a couple months to get caught up, first."

He laughed lightly and gallantly inclined his head. "As you wish," he agreed. "How long does it take to make arrowheads?"

"Arrowheads?" I asked blankly. 

"Yeah. You know, the metal things that go at the front of the arrows?"

I blinked at him. Then I went to a shelf, took down a mold and poured some liquid metal into it, before lowering the entire thing into some waiting water by an old, rusting chain and hook kept around solely for that purpose. When it had cooled sufficiently I pulled it out, took my chisel and hammer and opened the mold, pulling two dozen tips out. They were still warm, so it was a very simple thing to smooth them out. I dropped the finished handful onto the table in front of him.

Leaf grinned and gathered them up, tossing the coins required down in their place. "Thanks. Torrei isn't any better with these than the daggers."

I let out a groan. "Arrowheads too? Is there anything he does make well?"

"Not in the matter of weapons. Mithril armor he is quite good at, and fair at shields—the more ornate the more he enjoys the order—but his specialty are the baubles the ladies order from him, and he enjoys even the crafting of fastenings for the clothing of those willing to buy his ornate craft." 

"It's just become a habit to get metal things from him?"

"It has been," Leaf agreed with a crooked grin. "In the past," he finished, holding up his new arrowheads with a promising look in his continuing smile. 

I rolled my eyes as he left, and got down my other molds, quickly making several dozen tips of all kinds, just in case. I left them standing in buckets as I went back to my flet for the night, thanking Taradriel for the supper I knew she had left in my flet as I passed her flet on the way home.

By the time I arrived at work in the morning, the arrowheads were half gone, and Haradan was almost beside himself with excitement. I doubt he'd have been as enthusiastic if he'd been on my side of the fire. Still, it was somewhat thrilling, even if the cause was nothing more than arrowheads, since we rarely got much business, and never any from the halls. I made a gross of tips before returning to the twin daggers I was working on, only half noticing as elf after elf came in, my pile of arrowheads dropping down much too low.


	4. A moment of contentment

_Nea_ upon discovering someone reviewed: OH MY GOSH!!! A REVIEW!!! (Does a little dance in the swiveling computer chair which is never as comfortable as it looks.)__

_Rest of the people in the computer lab: Stare at her in perplexed amusement, as the exclamations were silent, but a stupid little smile remains plastered on her face. _

_Guy who was cussing at the only Mac in the room because it was the only computer available as it refuses—after twenty minutes of being sworn at—to allow him to log on: Remains clueless._

In other words, thanks to Tinania Lindaleriel for reviewing! As to your supposedly odd and obvious question—that is actually supposed to be like that. I'm just glad the dualism came through as I had hoped. This is pre-LOTR, and the dagger has gotten use through sparring practice, guard duty, forest patrols and so on. Hang in there, within three chapters that first and rather basic question will be answered… 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

With great contentment I closed my eyes, loving the soft sounds of another early spring evening as my body cooled, recovering from my long, hot day of work. A gentle breeze flittered through the open windows of my flet, turning pages in an open book I had been reading in the fall—I hadn't had time to finish it since. 

My gold hair was still streaked black from soot, which no doubt was beaded across my face as well, but I didn't care. I was done with work, and taking the next few days to relax, no matter what.

"Anyone home?" a soft voice asked quietly from the panel of wood that covered the entrance to my flet. 

I sighed, recognizing the voice. "Yeah, Leaf. Come on in."

The door swung up, and Leaf climbed in. "Hey," he murmured with a crooked grin.

"I'm not working. I'm not going to no matter what—so don't even think about it."

He shook his head with his still off-kilter grin and settled himself in the empty chair, leaning his back much as I was in mine, his feet resting on the window sill. Mine were on the table. "I just came by to see how things were," he said softly.

I let out a yawn, not bothering to try and hide it. "Got the last blasted set done today… and they finally stopped coming for tips."

"And they're singing your praises at the hall."

"And how's the smith up there taking all this?"

"He likes having the time he would have spent on our things on those he prefers."

"That's good, anyway," I murmured absently, letting my head loll back. 

"You do look exhausted."

"Stop right there—I don't care what you need, I'm not making it!"

Leaf laughed, his eyes dancing when I rolled my head to the side to see him. It took too much effort to lift it back into place. "You did say to give you time to get caught up…"

"Don't you bloody well dare!" I snapped. "Last time I had to stop what I was doing until I got plans laid out—and all I'm planning on doing for the next week is sleep! I haven't rested enough since those orders came in—" I paused to yawn again, "—and I'm starting to get snappish… And if you say what you're about to, I'll kick you right out of this tree!"

He held up his hands in mock surrender, a chuckle escaping him, his eyes warm with amusement and affection. "Wouldn't that take more energy than you have, by your own admission?"

"I'd muster it up somehow," I mumbled, my ire gone in the face of his relaxed humor. "Was it only an order that brought you round?"

"No," he leaned back a bit farther. "If it was, I'd have just showed up at the shop some time… other than to get directions to your flet."

"Then what?" I asked, stifling another yawn.

"I just wanted to talk to a friend," he admitted softly, his eyes watching me with concern. "But it can wait. Right now I think it would be best for you to sleep."

"Aren't I?" I managed, sluggishly blinking my eyes. 

The next thing I knew daylight was streaming through my windows, and I was as stiff as ever an elf was. I reached up to run a hand through my hair, and found it had ended up a tangled mess, since I had neither washed nor combed it after ripping off my mask at work the previous evening. Slowly I stretched, nearly tipping my chair over in the process. 

Setting all six feet on the floor, I rubbed my hands over my eyes, yawned, and shook myself as awake as I could. I rubbed the back of my neck, looking around my flet, seeing things had changed since last I saw them. I was about to frown when two things caught my attention—the scent of breakfast on the air, and the sounds of someone else in my flet. 

"Tara?" I asked softly, not feeling awake enough yet to turn.

"Guess again," a male voice murmured dryly. "You might wash your hands before eating."

I snorted at the 'suggestion' but got up from my chair, obediently padding over to the basin on feet made unsteady by a deep sleep which still threatened to linger, weighting down my limbs and sending my eyes unfocused every few seconds. I managed to wash fairly well, and was awake enough to realize Leaf had done more than fix breakfast. "You had a busy night," I observed, seeing a lot of the cleaning I had been needing to do was already done. 

"I didn't feel like heading back to the halls when it was so nice out, but I'm not stupid enough to wander the forest virtually unarmed at night, so I figured I'd give you a hand."

"No ulterior motive?" I asked, lifting a brow.

He smiled crookedly and handed me a plate. "I thought if I helped, you might have some time for an old friend… even if he can be a bit annoying in the matter of promoting your business." His eyes sparkled with good humor and old affection.

I was in a much better humor by this point, of course, the sight, smell and taste of breakfast already prepared, my flet nearly back to normal—from its semi-destroyed disastrous state caused by coming to my flet for rest at night and a change and bath ever since those orders came in—with only a little more needing to be done, my work completed, well rested—if a bit stiff from sleeping propped up in a chair all night—for a change, and with a friend I had known since we were both only of dwarf height. 

So I smiled and stretched my back until I heard the pops I needed, eating the food he had prepared for us, putting things away once he had washed them. When we had finished, we leaned back in the chairs once more. "You know Leaf," I murmured, sipping my drink, "you'd make some lucky guy a wonderful wife."

Leaf blinked at me, then flushed, and grinned. "I suppose it is rather pathetic, isn't it?"

"Not at all," I soothed, my overly supportive tones making him blush—and grin—all the harder. 

"I didn't just want to sit here and listen to you snore all night," he defended, still grinning.

I set the chair legs down abruptly. "I do not!"

"Do too!" he insisted without missing a beat.

I scowled at him, crossing my arms over my chest. "Who asked you, anyway?"

His grin remained, his eyes closing in contentment that I shared. 

With a smile I looked out the window, thinking back to the centuries the nine of us had played together in the woods before we had to take our places in the world of adults. I missed those days, fairly often. After all, then all we had to do was find some way to entertain ourselves and stay out of our parents' hair. Centuries of days spent entirely together formed a bond that even the time we'd been apart couldn't break. We still knew each other well enough to know what was being thought, to expect what was coming next, unless it was intentionally being blocked… and after over a thousand years of being alone in comparison, it was nice to return to those simple times, even if only for a few minutes or hours. 

It took a while, but I was soon bored with our silence and inactivity. "What do you want to do?"

Leaf opened his eyes and looked at me for a moment, before tilting his head at the bow resting in the corner. "How good are you with that?"

"I can hunt, kill orcs. My ability is no where near competition level, of course."

"Would you be against learning how to improve?"

"I know how to improve—practice."

He smiled lazily. "There is no doubt some way I could help you."

"You have always been an archer," I murmured, shaking my head. 

He laughed softly. "That's right!" he exclaimed. "I shot at you the first day you joined us."

"It was a beautiful shot," I admitted. "I think there wasn't more than a handful of times when you didn't have that ridiculous little quiver strapped to your thigh, that poor little bow over your shoulder."

"It was my pride and joy," he murmured, his eyes closed to better see those times from long ago. "My father gave me that before anyone else got one."

"Yes… and it only took you how many days before you had whittled the ends into points?"

He laughed. "What's an arrow with no point?"

"Pointless," I answered, deadpan. "You need new jokes, Leaf."

"That wasn't meant as a joke anymore, but as a fact."

We both sobered at his words, Leaf looking a bit bad for having brought the conversation back to the present. I sighed and shook my head. "We're too serious," I muttered. "Let's go do something reserved for kids… since you apparently have time off."

"Hmm? Oh—yes. They're not surprised when I vanish for a day or two… and I told them I would, so they won't be worried."

"You can do that?"

"Well, it's not like I have a set job. I just kind of… do what needs doing."

"And practice archery, and use the twin daggers…"

He grinned. "Yeah," he agreed softly. "Race to the pond?"

I hesitated for a moment. Then I shrugged and nodded. "I could use a good bath," I murmured.

"I wasn't going to mention it…" 

I let out an outraged yelp—which he knew was mostly just in fun—and raced down the ladder after him, passing him when we got to the ground. I was the first to dive in, enjoying the cool water brushing around me as I swam for the other side. I surfaced and turned, seeing Leaf a ways off, coming towards me with fair speed. I crossed my arms over my chest and waited.

He resurfaced already grinning. "You always were the fastest," he said softly, his eyes shining. 

"Why else would you all have called me Wind?"


	5. An invitation

Hey! Two more reviews for this story while I was sick! Cool. 

Alright, another chapter for you three! 

And to calenore (which, by the way, is really fun to pronounce, even if I'm getting it wrong)… you are meant to wonder at the narrator's identity, so don't worry! It will be cleared up soon. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Please tell me you're joking," I demanded as a familiar form entered the door, looking with interest at the two new swords I had just hung up that morning.

"Just stopping by," Leaf grinned, running his finger lightly over the script I'd scrolled along a curving blade. "How has business been?"

"Blessedly steady," I answered with a small smile.

"Verses slow?"

"Verses hectic." I retorted at once as I moved around, cleaning up my work area. "I've actually cleared off the door, and had a chance for some creative play."

"So I see," he murmured, turning back to the wall. He tilted his head.

"Go ahead," I agreed, leaning back on the table, crossing my arms over my chest as he gently lifted the more ornate sword—the one with the curved blade and script—into his fingers. 

Reverently he ran his finger along the blade, testing its strength and sharpness against his fingers. He held it out perfectly straight, then let the blade swoop down, lightly holding it as it arched around his wrist, a quick and deft movement returning it to upright display. He nodded and slowly set it back up on the wall. "When you're open to orders," he drawled, "I'll be here."

"Need one that bad?" I asked, one brow lifted at his display. He was obviously very comfortable around weapons.

"Not really… Father will probably order me a sword for my birthday… if it doesn't come from you, I'll be back."

"That's in a while, isn't it?"

"Four months," he agreed absently. A faint frown came to his brow. "Around the time of the prince's party, in fact—I've been invited to join the throng of well-wishers. And to invite anyone I like."

"That close to the prince, are you?"

"As close as anyone," he quietly agreed. "Care to keep me company?"

I studied him with a frown for a long moment, noting the way he didn't look at me, as if this was a casual offer… but somehow it didn't feel like one. Perhaps because he hadn't looked at me once since beginning to speak of his and the prince's birthdays. "I'm sure you have plenty of friends already planning—"

He shook his head. "Not truly. Hundreds who know me on sight, but no true friends."

"I find that hard to believe." That was true enough. In fact, I was on the shocked side at the very idea. Leaf had been the most outgoing of our group, often pausing our games to talk with another elf from a different group. Most of the time things were cordial enough between groups—at least when they weren't playing at war—but he had had many friends outside of ours.

His lips pursed for a moment, then he seemed to catch himself, turning a bit farther away. All I could see of his face was a tight muscle beginning to twitch in his jaw. "I have no reason to lie to you."

Things I could say battled between my ears, but for once my more gentle—and usually repressed—nature took over. I weighed the risks and boredom factors quickly, knowing even as I did so what I was going to decide and say—damning all the rest along with common sense. "Well, as long as Father doesn't find out and forbid it—" 

He turned to look at me, disbelief on his face. "You still bow to your father's authority?"

"Don't you?"

"That's somewhat diff—"

"Do you want me there, or not?" I snapped, narrowing my eyes. My father had always been a touchy subject of mine—I preferred to avoid mention or thought of him in any way I could.

He closed his mouth, his jaw tight for a long moment while we glared at each other. He exhaled, his eyes drifting shut. When they opened, bright and rueful, a small smile curved his lips. "You will try?"

That look in his eyes said it was all alright, and we both knew it. "I said I would," I agreed, sounding crosser than I felt. 

A crooked grin called me on it, and he nodded once, calling an end to the argument in its entirety. Some commotion drew his attention to the outside world, his brows drawn in a severe frown after listening for a moment. "It appears I must go," he murmured, bowing his head towards me in such an automatic fashion it was easy to picture him dealing with the social niceties of the halls every day. He left without awaiting a reply, the light swallowing him up as he left the main room. 

I snorted at him and shook my head, before returning to my sketch book, making some doodles for a while before I began flipping through all the pages, seeing ones I had improved upon, discarded, and created in metal. 

"Busy, dear elf?" a quiet voice asked.

Smiling without looking up from one design I had always loved, I shook my head. "Not yet."

When I looked up, Taradriel was looking at the design. "It's—" I snapped the book shut. "Lovely," she finished. "You can't keep doing this," she insisted, "you aren't—"

"Can I help you with something, Tara?" I asked sharply, my voice sinking low, warning her not to continue with the same old line.

She sighed, her eyes growing a bit shadowed for a long minute. Some resolve lit her face, and she nodded shortly. "Yes," she agreed, lifting her chin in defiance against things that had long since been said and done. "You can create that as a pendant for me—of mithril. Have it ready by the prince's birthday. I have a dear friend who will be wearing it to the celebration."

"Very well," I agreed. "Haradan will take the order."

"You will create it?"

"Of course, Tara," I agreed softly, silently reminding her I had done all the work in this shop since I'd learned well enough how to do so. 

She looked at me for a long moment, and then smiled. "Dear elf," she murmured softly, "I shall pray for you, as ever I have."

"The stars alone will know the truth, Tara. No one else ever shall."

"You are not your brother. You never truly can be Lyran, you do know that."

"Yes," I agreed. "But it has been many years since I have been anything other than my father's son." I leaned back in the chair. "Is that all?" I asked a bit harshly, still not interested in going over this argument yet again.

With a soft sigh she held out a basket. 

Some of my newly resurrected barrier against her melted, seeing that. I considered protesting that I could damned well make my own lunch, that I knew enough of cooking to handle that—but I didn't, because she knew all of that. After all, she had taught me everything I knew about keeping my flet running and life in my veins. She brought me lunch because she knew I forgot mine pretty much every day—I get rather involved and enthusiastic about new aspects of my craft, which makes me fairly absent minded, no matter how I might growl and complain to or about Leaf—and either went without or took off longer than I liked to get something that wasn't usually worth getting either from the village or my flet. I accepted the basket with a rueful smile. "I've got a deer bleeding out," I murmured in way of acceptance and thanks.

She nodded. "I have the time," she agreed.

I nodded, knowing that when I got home my lucky morning kill would have been turned into dinner, a skin, and meals for both of us—and her sister—for the next week. She cooked my lunch and dinner fairly often, and she got over half of any animal I happened to kill. It worked. That way I didn't go around half starved, and she didn't have to barter for marked up meat at the market in the village, except when I was too busy to hunt or there was nothing to find. "I'll bring it around when it's done," I murmured, tapping the sketch book lightly.

With a nod she headed to the door. "You have found you have quite a gift for this craft—but don't let it convince you to hide who you are."

I didn't bother to force a smile out of my affection for her, as she was neither expecting it, nor any longer in the room. I flipped my sketch book open to the page, seeing the times when I had started to change some aspect only to put it back as it had been. At the time, I had thought of it as a design to be inlaid on a handle, or a sheath. Maybe even the overlay on a shield. Never had I considered turning my design into a piece of jewelry.

Why would I? I never wore the stuff.


	6. Swords and poetry

Wow. From three to ten reviews with the addition of a single chapter. I'm rather—pleasantly—surprised. 

To Iluvien: Thanks for reviewing, of course. The guy who came in first to order the double daggers/long knives (whichever you prefer to call them) was merely unaccustomed to speaking with people from the village. He was likely trained to be rather silent and stoic as a guard up at the halls. All of the elves who spent a lot of their youth in the woods were given or chose nicknames, not telling their true names. The narrator also goes by Tyran, but was called Wind by the others. In case you hadn't figured it out (personally, I tend to skip author's notes, and it was mentioned in there) Legolas is known as Leaf by those in their group. That will no doubt get to be a bit of dramatic irony before the end of this tale.

To AnneWithane: I'm sure you're probably right about my word usage, but though I try and catch what I notice… It's only what _I_ notice. I also tend to really get turned off of stories that are really heavy into ''tis' and all the other things that Tolkien occasionally added to his works. Once in a while is okay, but too much I find very distracting, and so I tend to avoid using it in my own writing, because I know I can't pull it off without sounding awkward. After next chapter (where I think things will be cleared up, unless lightning strikes my computer and me at the same time) you'll have to tell me if you guessed right or not.

That goes to everyone else who has a hunch, just because I'm curious, and want to see if I managed to hint what I think I've hinted.

The vagueness and secrecy should be cleared up quite soon…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was as I was becoming annoyed with my own lack of skill that one of the king's advisors stepped into the room. I happened to glance up in my frustration with my clumsy hands to see him craning his neck to see if Haradan was somewhere in the back room. 

"My master is at lunch." With his grandchildren. For the rest of the afternoon. "Could I assist you?"

He looked down at me with a small sniff of disdain that made a few rather unkind ideas pop into my head of how to give him a bit of a rude shock back to the reality I lived in—no matter where you were born, to whom, or who you worked for, you're still an elf, an immortal, and you've got to deal with both things as best you know how… and looking down your nose at someone because they don't spit polish the ground at the king's feet wasn't it. "Is this the smith shop which has recently created weapons for the halls?"

"It is," I agreed, wiping my hands on a cloth in a more automatic than helpful fashion. 

"I have an order for you," he stated, as if I should get on my knees to thank him for coming to me. "It is to be completed with the utmost secrecy—you are to tell no one of it."

To say this was a bit odd would be an understatement, but dwarves aren't the only odd beings on Middle-Earth, and this fellow proved it. I merely blinked and waited, suspecting he didn't need me to even be in the room to continue the conversation. In all likelihood, he had it all planned out long before he arrived at the shop, not including any prospect of protest on my part. But then, why would I turn down work?

"You are hereby ordered—by the King—to create a sword for the Prince to be presented on his birthday." The elf looked down at me again. A rather remarkable feat, since I was over two inches taller than him even when in bare feet—which I was, though my hatred of shoes sometimes made me curse myself when a stray spark caught one of my toes. "Something ornate, of course—befitting a prince."

"Uh-huh," I said in some form of general agreement. "And shall it be usable?"

"What?" He sounded stumped.

I quirked a brow. "I mean, shall I craft it entirely with the idea of decorating the prince's side, or should it be functional in case he decides to use it?"

He bristled as if I had out and out called him an idiot. Come to think of it… my tone had probably implied it a bit. But blast it all, the elf knew nothing about swords and was trying to tell me my business! "It should of course be something he can use, should the need arise—which it is doubtful it ever would, considering the guards assigned to him."

"Must be irritating," I murmured without thinking, mentally flipping through my sketchbook for something that could be altered slightly into something fitting for one of royal blood. 

The elf let out a soft sound of malcontent at my impertinence which sounded damned silly, lifted his nose and marched out. His speech probably hadn't prepared for any retorts, any more than it had for rejection.

I was still shaking my head when Leaf came in. 

"What's funny?"

I laughed lightly and turned back to my sketches. "Some advisor of the King's just ordered something," I explained quietly, half drawn into the world of possibilities lying before me. "He thought I was awful because of a few ideas I have which he sees as hardly fitting, of course."

"Like?"

"The prince must find it irritating to be surrounded by people looking to serve and protect him all the time. I mean, everyone needs a chance to just be alone with their thoughts… and it doesn't sound like the poor fellow gets a chance, or at least not often enough." 

Leaf was staring at me for the length of my statement, then after it for such a long time I began to wonder what was going on behind his eyes—which for once I found I couldn't read. Then a small smile tilted his lips as the oddest mix came into his eyes. Ruefulness, joy, affection, and some sorrow to twist things up. I couldn't guess what it was all about, and his gaze dropped to the page I had absently stopped at before I could try. "A pendant?"

"Hmm?" I blinked and then shook myself back to the world of conversation, looking down at the sketchbook. "Oh… Well, it is now. Tara ordered one for some friend of hers."

"It's exquisite."

"It's also currently nonexistent—it's giving me the damnedest time of anything I've ever tried to create, though the design was simple enough and hasn't allowed me to make any changes."

Leaf lifted a brow, crossing his arms as he leaned against the table. "_It_ wouldn't let _you_ change it?" he asked softly, the tones he used and the look in his eyes asking me if I was aware of what I had said and how close to insane it sounded.

With a sigh I debated explaining or not. I cast about in my mind for a good analogy, but couldn't think of anything for the longest time. I knew he had a thing for archery, but that wasn't a good one, nor was any other form of weaponry, and that was about all I knew about his current life. "Have you ever written anything?"

"Written?" he asked in surprise. Then the faintest blush touched the tips of his ears. "Er… yes."

I arched a brow, smiling as I interpreted this for myself—he was writing his own poetry. His blush deepened and his gaze slid away to study the design again as he saw me holding in a tease of some sort. "Ever write something, leave it and come back, beginning to change some aspect of it only to find it doesn't fit as well as what was there originally?"

He thoughtfully studied a spot on the wall, then slowly nodded. "I suppose you're right," he agreed. He tilted his head. "Do designs ever… run away with you?"

I laughed softly and flipped to some of my more recent inspirations. "You'd be amazed what one can create on little—"

"Rest?" he put in before I could. He smiled faintly. "There is a certain genius when the conscious begins to fade." 

"Only to a certain point," I countered, mostly agreeing. 

"True enough," he agreed, before leaning over to study one of the sketches a bit closer. He glanced at the other one on the page and discarded it with a twitch of his nose, turning his attention back to the first. "Is it completely finished?"

I looked down at it, saw a few lines that now obviously needed changing. I grabbed a quill and the small ink well from the shelf behind me, and quickly made the changes, darkening the ones I liked from my first time around. "Maybe," I hedged when I'd finished.

He nodded. "I like this version better." He shrugged and moved back, glancing around the room for anything new he had missed before. "There's something better about it."

I smiled faintly, knowing more precisely how it had changed for the better, but not about to get technical—a discussion of poetry wasn't something I was willing to get into in turn. I leaned back in the chair, setting my feet on my little desk. The drawing was better, but it still didn't scream for me to get to work just then to create it—a sign I probably wouldn't ever do it, unless I changed it farther into something that I just had to create. Instead of speaking or doing anything productive, I turned my eyes to the drawing, and slowly a spark of something settled in my brain. With a faint smile I dropped my chair down into place, beginning a new design before Leaf had recovered from his start at the abrupt and fairly noisy movement.

"Got an idea?" he asked softly, tilting his head at the page as I slashed a few lines onto it rapidly.

"Uh-huh," I agreed, half wanting to shoo him out of the room—I don't work well with someone hanging over my shoulder, especially at this stage of the creation. 

"I'll leave you to it, then," he murmured.

"Bye," I murmured softly, only vaguely aware of him leaving and the sound of Haradan letting himself in the back a moment later, calling out a greeting that went unanswered as the sun fell into the west.


	7. Taradriel's plot

No, Wind/Tyran/(read below) doesn't know who Leaf really is. When they were sent into the woods as children, they made a pact of sorts not to know/ reveal their true names, because they didn't want such things as rank or title or job to get in the way of their friendship or memories. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was with no small amount of personal pride or accomplishment that I casually handed the box to Taradriel, not wanting to admit how much trouble it had given me. It was a regular and rough box, but that made no difference. She smiled as she opened it, nodding slightly. "I knew it would be lovely," she murmured, running a finger along one of the graceful, yet strong arches of mithril. "Quite fitting for a beautiful elf, wouldn't you say?"

I lifted a brow. "Taradriel, I do not know who it's going to," I reminded her, faintly amused at her asking me _my_ opinion on the beauty of any she-elf.

"It is going to a lovely young elf I once knew for a few years—Alyeni."

Involuntarily my breath hissed out at the name, my hands forming tight fists. Unable to look at her any longer, I sharply turned aside. "Don't be stupid, Tara," I spat. "Alyeni died the day after Mother and Lyran were buried."

"Stop it!" she exclaimed, actually stomping her foot like a much younger elf instead of the motherly one she usually was around me. "She isn't dead—but your father as good as buried her. It's time for her to come back, to rejoin the world."

"I—" I caught myself, closing my eyes tightly against the thing she was asking of me. "She cannot come back—there is nothing of her left." I did my best to keep my voice even and calm, but it was a loosing battle.

"There is," she insisted stubbornly. "Alye, you—"

"Tyran, Tara. I am Tyran."

"No you aren't. Tyran is a male."

"Is he?" I asked. To anyone who didn't know me as well as she—and eight others—did, my voice would have been considered deadly, and the elf unfortunate enough to encounter it would have flinched and backed away.

Tara was hardly phased. "You just answered yourself."

I slammed my fists on the table, making it shake and creak in protest. "Damn it, Tara!"

"Don't swear at me, child!" she snapped.

"I'm no longer a child, and as for swearing—you try growing up male and see how often your tongue responds to the social graces expected of all she-elves!" I all but hissed the words at her, wanting nothing more than to back the evening up and send the pendant with the lad Haradan sometimes paid to deliver things.

She narrowed her eyes, clearly not pleased with my stubbornness against her obviously planned ideas for me. "I held my peace when your father began this foolishness. I thought he'd snap out of it and realize he didn't have a son any longer, but a beautiful daughter."

"He didn't."

"No," she agreed softly. "And while you have coped with it—"

"Coped, Tara?" I asked bitingly. "I have acted and been seen, referred to and believed male for over two thousand years. How can that compete with _eight years_ of being my mother's little girl?" I shook my head, running my hand through my greasy and sooty hair. "It can't." 

"Alye didn't die… you just transformed her to him to please your father… not that you had much of a choice."

"No," I agreed bitterly. "And he's not about to admit first that he has no son, and then that he forced his daughter to take that place, sending her into the woods at such an age when most she-elves are just learning which pots are used to cook what."

"You're old enough now to go on your own—"

"That's not how things go, Tara, and you know it. Even if I were to sever the connection, remove him from my life, what then? Why bother, Tara? Yes, I was born female, but I've been one of the guys for so long I don't know how to be anything else."

"What of marriage?"

I snorted at that. "You must be joking, Tara. To who?" To what? Male—which would be very odd for us both, as I had been forced to emulate them to such a degree no one would believe otherwise of me, which would be understandably off-putting for most any male… and who would want the ones it didn't, anyway? Female? That thought made my stomach turn, and it was one thing my father had neither expected of me nor pushed for, perhaps some part of his demented logic knowing that would eventually get his… our… little secret revealed. 

"You know you have your mother's beauty, if you would only look the part for once—"

"You could dress me up, fix my hair… But I would still be Tyran. I have been Tyran for so much of my life I can barely remember anything else, Tara."

"I know," she agreed quietly. "But you shouldn't resign yourself to being alone for the rest of your life."

I smiled, and knew it was bitter even before she flinched at the sight of it. "I have Father, haven't I?" Then I softened slightly. "And you."

"And Leaf?"

Something in her tone made me look up at her. "Tara?" I asked cautiously, not liking the look in her eye though I couldn't put my finger on why. 

"You like him," she stated, the way she spoke putting some twist on the words that made me hesitant to answer. 

"I love him—have since we were too young to realize such." 

She gave me a triumphant smile, and I finally caught on, barely able to retrain myself from rolling my eyes to ask the stars for patience. I also decided that she-elves aren't a different species from male elves—they're just raised so differently they always know what any other she-elf means, leaving those of us raised mostly by ourselves in the woods totally in the dark. It was an interesting observation, but I forgot it rather understandably, under the circumstances. 

"Tara, don't even think about it. I've known him—"

"For over two thousand years. No one else could have such a history with someone."

"Tara, he used to pull my hair and push me into the pond."

"And what did you do to him?"

I couldn't help a smile at the fond memories that immediately popped to the fore of my mind. "Hid his bow at the top of the tallest tree. He was always in love with that darned thing. Lugged it everywhere on the claim it would protect us if we ever came across anything." I'd nearly laughed at him for it. His tiny bow and simple wooden arrows—which he had sharpened into points—wouldn't have killed so much as a squirrel unless he beat it over the head with the bow.

"See? You already know everything good and bad about him."

"I watched him grow up, as he watched me, and we watched everyone else. Tara, it means nothing, other than he will have more of a right to be angry with me for the deception." 

She sighed wearily. "But do you not look at him? See him through the eyes of a female?"

I looked down at the table, saw my outburst earlier had knocked a vase over. I set it upright without really thinking about what I was doing as I pondered her words, and if I should really answer. But Tara was the closest thing I'd had to a mother since mine had been killed, so there wasn't really much of a choice that I could see. "I'm afraid to," I admitted on a soft whisper. Admitting a weakness was foreign to me.

"Afraid of what?" she asked, confusion obvious.

"Of looking," I sighed, wishing her odd insight would extend enough I wouldn't have to spell this out. "If he sees me looking… should he notice my gaze if I should decide that I like what I see… then he'll either figure it out—rather unlikely considering how long he's believed me to be a male—or he'll steer clear of me. Either way, I lose one of my best—" and more or less only "—my best friends."

"But he is your friend."

I blinked at her blankly. "So?"

"So, he should understand that you didn't have a choice. He knows how demanding your father can be, doesn't he?" she asked, hands propped on her hips.

"Yes… And he believes I should have broken free—of course, that when he thinks me to be male."

Taradriel sighed, understanding what I meant by that. She-elves were expected to stay around the home until married, for the most part, or at least to live quite close to home. Because my flet was close to Tara's, my father didn't mind not conforming with those unwritten rules too well… but if I should try and use any more freedom that would be given to male elves without question, he would remind me I was his, and he would say what I could and couldn't do. He never actually called me his daughter, never called me by female pronouns… but I'd gotten used to it. 

Even if it rankled from time to time. 

With a shake of her head, Taradriel moved to a chest. "Your father is in Imladris this month, as well you know. So you're going to the prince's celebration—as Alyeni." She stood and unfurled a gown.

"Is it a costume party?" 

"Don't be impertinent," she sighed, shaking the gown as if to get me to take it.

I lifted a brow and crossed my arms over my chest. "You are insane if you believe I'm going to so much as put that on, much less go outside… or to a feast and night of dancing where I told Leaf I'd try to meet him!"

"So he'll find out," she said calmly.

I was anything _but_ calm at that proposition. "Tara, he can't ever find out! No one can!" I was vaguely aware I sounded like a child of eight, but I couldn't help it.

"You are not a male. Is there anything wrong in letting them know that?"

"Tara," I groaned, slumping into a chair. "I have never tried to be an adult she-elf. I know nothing of it! I shall be an utter fool, and so uncomfortable in my own skin I'll be so miserable there will be no point in going at all—Leaf or not!"

She laid the cloth against me, testing it against me or something. It made me decidedly uncomfortable, enough that I slid out of the chair and rose, running a hand through my unbound hair. "I've already informed them that Alyeni will be arriving to join the prince in celebrating his birthday."

I snorted, crossing my hands over my chest again. "How'd you do that? Called me a resurrection of an elf who never physically died?"

She sighed and shook her head. "I've called you my honorary niece, visiting for a time."

"Visiting?" I asked, latching onto the word.

With a nod she looked me over. "I know you're uncomfortable in her skin now, and with fairly good reason, considering you've been Tyran for so long, but you have to try, or you'll regret it in several thousand years, when you're alone because you never told the world the truth that only your father, you, me and the stars now know."

"Sometimes I wonder if he remembers," I grumbled, not at all pleased by the prospect, but knowing I would go along with it because otherwise Tara would be in a bit of a jam. When she looked hopefully up at me I sighed, closing my eyes.

She beamed and directed me to strip, shaking her head as layer after layer of my work clothes came off. She sighed as the confining vest I wore came off, leaving me feeling out of my element even as I quickly bathed. Tara washed my hair, smoothing it down, leaving it free to wave if it wished. Then she forced me into so many layers of material so against what I was used to I felt as if I couldn't breathe. My chest was just as confined—but instead of hiding it, it was on display. The long, full skirt brushed against my ankles in a way foreign to me, and that was before I looked down at myself. 

I nearly had a panic attack. Only reminding myself all the hunts for orcs and spiders I'd gone on in the last centuries of our time in the woods kept me in control of myself. It seemed silly to be upset about a change of clothes in comparison, but still… 

Tara finished with her fussing, and put the pendant I'd created around my neck, letting it drop to what I considered dangerous levels on incredibly bared skin. She tilted her head at me, and smiled at her job. "There," she declared. "You are as lovely as your mother," she sighed wistfully. Then she looked up at me and laughed softly. "Oh, don't look so! You'll be fine."

"Fine?" I asked, aware my voice had gone much higher than usual. I winced, knowing that was yet another thing I was going to have to constantly be aware of. I couldn't walk like a male, talk like a male, sit, eat, drink… "Damn it all, I'm staying home!"

"You are not!" Tara insisted, some of the sparkle leaving her eyes in a way that threatened she would drag me to the halls if I didn't go willingly. "You're going, even if you spend the night in the garden they have outside the great hall."

I tilted my head in consideration. There was a large clearing within that garden, which could be used for tournaments as long as they weren't on horseback, so I had been there once or twice, watching my weapons put to use in the hands of other elves. Off to the ends, though, the garden grew thick and dense, sheltering small nooks with hidden benches where I could escape unnoticed for hours. One look at Tara assured me it would be easier to hide away than try to convince her to let me get away with not going. "Very well," I sighed, looking down at myself, still feeling oddly bereft, though I was wearing far more material than usual. "But I need a cloak."

"No," she stated firmly. "You look wonderful, dear little elf." She took my arm—thankfully covered with material so my fading scars from working with molten metal didn't show—and led me to her looking glass. "See?"

I started to turn to her in annoyance, but the reflection caught me with an irresistible snare, drawing my eyes back. I was aware my jaw was going slack, but couldn't help it. With an intense longing I couldn't deny, I reached out to touch the image before me, feeling pain as I was unable to touch the she-elf I had just found in the mirror. Anguish in the form of tears clawed at my eyes to be released, but I held them back, too used to being a male to let them run. 

"Didn't you know?" Tara asked quietly, having seen and understood my reaction. I had to wonder if anyone else in the world would have understood, and found myself doubting it.

"How could I?" I whispered back, almost afraid to breathe for fear I would lose that which had just been miraculously given to me. Over two thousand years since I had seen this vision…

Tara sighed and shook her head. "I've seen it every day since you grew up. I thought you did as well… but I have been quite wrong before." She reached out and fondly tucked a stray hair back into the small twist she had pulled a small section of hair back into. "Her eyes were a bit darker, but otherwise you look exactly like her." She tilted her head in consideration. "You're taller, too."

I snorted a bit of laughter, and shook my head at her. I took a shaky breath and forced myself to look away from the image, feeling bereft without it.

With a gentle smile Tara took my arm and followed me down the ladder, walking with me almost to the gates. "Go on, now."

I managed a small smile for her, then lowered my eyes as the gates opened for me and a few other elves—predominately female—who had arrived at the same time. Seeing how much I looked like my mother had given me just enough confidence to come—no one would recognize me in a simple glance, at least. After all, I'd never seen the connection before tonight. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	8. Not like the others

I suppose I should point out here that while the group of elves did go into the woods as a group for several hundred years together, they spent the dark hours with their families (though there were probably sleep-overs from time to time) and could leave the wood to stop at home if they wanted something. It was more a general expectation that they go into the woods than anything… including casting them into the woods and locking the gates behind them. I suppose I can say it now. I do not write slash. Some of it is well written, and I have read that which I find interesting… but I don't think I could get my mind around it well enough to write… and truly, I don't care to try. This is my closest foray into that type of writing, and my oc is still female. Well, on with the story…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Oh… Sorry."

I didn't glance up, frozen in place by the familiar voice. "No harm done," I managed, self-consciously lifting my voice a bit higher. My voice was naturally a bit deeper than most she-elves, but I had been forced to work long and hard to trim off any hint of more feminine thrilling to the tones… which were now called for, and found inaccessible. Of course. 

He hesitated where he was, and I could almost feel him looking me over. "You haven't seen anyone else come by, have you?"

"No one," I murmured softly, silently willing him to continue his walk through the garden.

"Da—pardon me. A friend said he would come, and he—"

At this sudden stop, to say I was nervous would be an understatement. He came closer, and I did my best not to swallow or show any other sign of how terrified I was, mostly sure I had just been discovered. "And he?" I prompted, hating the silence more than I feared what it meant.

"Sorry," Leaf murmured, a frown on his face when I dared glance up. 

His gaze was fixed on my chest. I flushed and looked down, seeing my chest rather pushed up and out in a display the last few hours hadn't made me a bit more comfortable with. 

"I am sorry," he said, noticing my glance, obviously embarrassed at having been caught staring in such a way, his ears flushing red. "I was studying your pendant."

"Oh," I murmured, feeling a bit stupid for not having noticed that. Or considering he would recognize it, for that matter. "It was recently given to me—"

"By Taradriel," he finished with a small smile. I just blinked at him, wondering what to say or do at this point, and I guess he mistook it for question, for he explained. "I know the smith who designed and crafted it—he said he was making it for Tara, who was giving it to someone."

"Yes," I agreed softly, turning my gaze away from him. "She presented me with it tonight."

"I had not the chance to see it before—Wind was busy with other orders, and having trouble with that piece. First such piece I believe he's made."

"Sounds like you know him well," I murmured, still wishing only for him to move on, but not knowing a polite way to tell him to shove off. 

"Since we were in the woods," he agreed with a fond smile. "The greatest of friends… which is why I don't understand why he's not here. He said he would be…"

_If_ I could. "Perhaps he was unable," I stated, unable to let that one pass in such a way.

He smiled faintly. "I've no doubt that's true." He glanced at the glow of the party within the great hall which had bled into the garden. "But I wish he was here—it would be nice to have some pleasant company."

Well. I wasn't used to being dressed as a she-elf, but still. "Then I shall leave you to more pleasing conversation. I hear the old ash by the small pond is fond of telling tales." 

I was only halfway out of the small glen I'd commandeered not long after my arrival when a hand curved around my forearm. I looked back to see apology written clearly on his face. "I did not mean it like that," he insisted quietly. He dropped his hand and looked down at the ground. "Most do not care to know me… He already knows me. It is easy to be with one you know."

"Perhaps," I agreed, wanting to add that right now I would be glad to have someone I didn't know around instead of him. Wisely I held my tongue as he rubbed at the back of his neck, hesitating about whatever he was about to say. "Oh, spit it out!"

He looked at me in shock, then blushed slightly. Great. He didn't recognize me at least. I should be thankful for the small favors, because I sure had never been granted big ones. "Would you walk with me?" he asked shyly, then rushed on, "At least until my friend comes?"

"And if he doesn't come?" Sorry, Leaf, but I'm not about to come anywhere near these halls in a long time after this. 

The look he sent me was endearingly hopeful, and I realized I was seeing a side of him none of the others ever had or ever would. Something in me melted at that look, and I resolved I would do my best to remember myself despite it. 

"All right," I agreed, "though I can't say when I'll need to leave."

"You haven't made arrangements?" he asked in shock. 

I mentally winced and did bite my tongue, reprimanding it. "I'm staying with Taradriel," I stated instead. 

"In other words, no," he murmured for me. "You shall not leave here unaccompanied." There was a certain degree of stoniness about him, tightening the skin around the outer corners of his eyes. Since he didn't often get that look—as far as I'd ever known him—I knew not to bother pushing. It would be easier to get gold away from a dwarf than to change his mind.

Fabulous. Well, I would get to wake Tara, get my clothes back, and get to my own flet for next to no sleep before work tomorrow. "I doubt there's anything in the wood which could frighten me," I said, meaning it, especially at that very instant.

He frowned, but didn't mention what I could see was in his mind to—spiders, orcs, sometimes even men and trolls. Men were the least to worry about, but for some reason she-elves generally had a great dislike for them. 

At any rate, Leaf—who never did tell me his name, or for that matter ask me mine—and I walked about the gardens for a time, speaking of trivial little trifles, before we wound our way back to the small bench I'd been at when he'd found me. Not knowing he found me, of course. 

"You know, you do remind me of someone," he murmured, breaking a rather long silence.

"Oh?" I asked uneasily.

"Yes," he agreed quietly, gazing at me in a way totally unlike usual. There was a bit of wonder in his bright eyes, something quizzical, but most of all—and above all else—hopeful. "You remind me of Wind."

"Is that a good thing?" I hedged.

He caught on to my unease, and laughed softly, tilting his head back to study the way the light reflected on some of the leaves above us. "Wind is my dearest friend—the only one from the old days I now know, and the only one I have met who doesn't care what I do in the palace."

"Why should anyone care?"

His smile was one of pure contentment and approval, with a bit of lazy amusement thrown in for good measure. "People do. Most people. Not you and Wind."

"Is Wind truly his name?" 

Leaf laughed lightly. "No. But it's how I know him."

"And how does he know you, then?"

He grinned crookedly but didn't look at me. "Leaf."

"Why Leaf?" I asked, for it was something I'd always sort of wondered, even if it hadn't been enough to ask before. 

His smile faded a bit, and he shook his head. "I don't remember."

"Liar." I stated it before I thought about it.

He turned his head sharply and stared at me in surprise. Then he blinked and lifted a brow. "You're right," he agreed, sounding vaguely puzzled. "I was just learning the language names are built from at the time, and used the common term for part of my own name. Later I wished I had been more original."

"But by then it was too late?" I murmured.

"Mmm." He looked back at the halls and shook his head. "Speaking of too late, if you don't head back soon, you won't get a chance to until nearly dawn."

"Then I'd best go." I promptly got up and, with a faint nod to him, headed out of the palace. The gates crashed behind me before he drew up along side me. I'd almost thought I would be free of him. "I'm sure I can find my way."

"Can you? In the dark, in an unfamiliar forest?"

I crooked a brow at him. "Is that to say _you_ know the way to Taradriel's flet?"

"Yes."

I stopped, crossing my arms over my chest. 

He smiled slightly and continued walking. "Tara would sometimes make lunch for all of us… or at least a snack. Wind would run to ask when we had been playing harder than usual. Tara was something of a mother for him, ever since his died."

After the first few words I had recalled what he meant, though I'd never thought he would remember her flet's location well enough to find it—after all, if he knew where to find Tara, he as good as knew where to find me, and he never had. But I was a bit more concerned—momentarily, of course—with the fact that he already felt he knew me well enough to keep walking, knowing I would catch up. 

I think it goes without saying I felt very odd trying to keep what Alyeni knew of Leaf separate from what Wind knew of him. It was beyond difficult, and nearly out of the acceptable realm of what I could deal with in any way remotely resembling calm.

After a seeming age we reached Tara's flet. "Well," I murmured, "good night."

He blinked at me in some astonishment, a slow smile tilting his lips. "You aren't like the others, are you?"

"The other whats?" I asked in exasperation, part of me envisioning the look on his face if I gave in to the growing urge I had to just knock him down and run for it.

"The other she-elves I meet."

I very nearly laughed at that. "You have no idea." I decided to retreat rather than attempt to figure out if that was a good thing or not. "Well… Good night."

He laughed lightly, leaning against the tree in such a way I couldn't escape the damned evening. "How long are you visiting?"

I did something then that I immediately regretted. I looked at him. Something at once delicate and painful slammed into my gut in that age-long instant, an impact that I knew would not be quick to fade from memory. Taking an excruciating breath which was rather shaky, I tore my eyes away and looked up the ladder. "Not long," I murmured, intended to never again set eyes upon him while I wore a dress. 

Disappointment rang in his voice, and would have shown in his eyes, had I dared to look. "I don't suppose you'll be anywhere tomorrow?"

I nearly rolled my eyes. "Leaf, of course I'll be somewhere—I just can't say where." That, at least, was true enough. He wasn't slow enough to fail and make the connection if I mentioned either work or the place I—when Tyran—worked. "Again, good night."

"Night," he agreed softly, stepping aside. Since he looked about to say something else, I sped up the ladder as quickly as I could, dropping the door into place behind me.

I stood there for a long moment, my eyes tightly closed as I tried to excise the memory of him gazing wistfully after me. Without waking Taradriel I changed, leaving everything I hadn't come with—and the pendant—behind me as I slipped into the darkness, aware enough of myself and the night to keep my dagger close.


	9. Return to reality

Hey, as long as I have so much as one person reading, I'll keep writing. CALENORE!!!! DO YOU EVER READ THESE?????? I think the revelation is going to be even slightly worse than that…

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~ 

After a nearly sleepless night I dragged myself into the workshop, vaguely aware I was forgetting something.

"Good morning, Wind," Leaf all but chirped as he strode into the shop a few minutes later. 

I bared my teeth at him in a growl. "Funny."

"What's with you?" he asked, crooking one brow up at me. "It's not like you were out late, or anything."

Ah. That was what I'd forgotten—to come up with a plausible excuse for my apparent no-show. Thankfully I noticed a slight glow to his eyes that hadn't been there the last time he'd been in the shop. I called him on it at once… mostly to keep him from pursuing the troubling line he'd started. "It doesn't look like you missed me."

He flushed lightly, his ears glowing, but he grinned crookedly. "I did look for you," he stated earnestly, "and came across someone you know in the process."

"Oh?" I murmured, trying to look busy so he wouldn't see the growing dread and panic that started to rise in me. Of course, being on my own tuff—dressed like normal, and so comfortable with myself—it was much easier to control, though he was one of the few people who knew me well enough to see it anyway… and he wasn't thinking about me. Well, not exactly, and certainly not in any way he would ever expect. Thankfully.

"Indirectly, at least. Did you meet the friend Taradriel had the pendant made for?"

"I dropped the pendant off at Tara's. There was no one else there… Why?" I asked, seeing in the shift of his eyes he had half made the trip back to asking me about my absence and wishing to avoid it.

"I met her," he murmured so softly I nearly missed it. The faintest smile touched his lips.

"That's nice." I went back to polishing the sword I'd finished the evening before.

"Aren't you going to ask about her?" he asked in astonished disbelief, since we knew each other well enough such dreamy looks wouldn't go unnoticed.

"Why? You're going to tell me whether I do or not."

He missed my peevishness, something of a smile glowing in his eyes. "That's true." He laughed lightly. "If you'd met her, you would never have forgotten her. She's unlike any other she-elf I've ever met."

"Sounds like you mean that in a good way," I murmured softly, finding myself amused despite myself as he continued. 

"Oh, yes," he agreed, smiling a rather dopey smile. "She didn't even ask what I do, we just walked and talked."

"Doesn't sound to me like she was all that interested, then."

He gave me an odd look, one brow lifting. "It seems you are determined to return me to reality—which is hardly kind." 

"But if you are unwilling to face the facts, isn't it up to your friends to point them out?" Really, I was just hoping a few words would rid him of his apparent interest. 

He crossed his arms over his chest, at the same moment looking rather indifferent to my opinion—which was of course his intention—and also quite hurt. Inside I cringed at that look—I hadn't meant to hurt him, but steering him away from Alyeni was certainly a good idea from my viewpoint. "I know it's unlikely I shall ever find a she-elf I can trust to truly love _me_—" I didn't understand the emphasis, but heard it nonetheless "—but the hope remains."

I blinked at him in shock. "Leaf, why would you think that?"

"It's been over a thousand years, and I've not found one." His arms tightened a bit, as if to ward off a chill. As I found myself at a surprising loss for words, he continued. "Besides, Tara's the only she-elf you've mentioned having in your life."

I sighed softly, but he had gone longer than I expected without shifting the focus of the conversation. "And she will likely remain the only one I have."

"Why?" Leaf asked with a frown, and a look on his face akin to the one I probably had had at his announcement—confused astonishment, disbelief. 

I shrugged, feigning a light-heartedness I didn't feel. "Not interested."

"At all?"

In she-elves? Not a chance. "No," I agreed softly, moving towards another project, needing to keep my hands busy.

"That… That's rather stupid, Wind."

"What?" The sole word was startled out of me. "What do you mean?"

"Well," he shifted a bit uncomfortably, "you have no reason not to find someone."

"And you do?"

"More so than you," he countered, bitterness lacing his tone.

"I doubt that," I muttered, though thinking of my own situation made me run my eyes over him—hidden by my face shield—while my mind raced through out past, looking for any clue to this attitude of his. I was quickly reassured his secret wasn't mine—his lines were too perfectly male, unencumbered in any way that could indicate otherwise. A small thrill went through the part of me that had been recently awakened as female as I noted the fine form before me. To hide it I turned aside and tended to the fire. "Enough of this!" I declared after a moment, facing him squarely.

Arms still crossed, eyes solemn, he nodded. "I agree." He hesitated for a moment. "Wind?"

"Hmm?"

I blinked at the rueful cautiousness in his eyes. "Would you find her name for me?"

"You didn't get it last night?"

"No," he admitted sheepishly.

"You've gone on about this elf you've met—yet you don't know her name?" When his eyes studied his boots and his ears flushed, I couldn't help but laugh. "She _is_ unlike any other she-elf you know—she's unnamed!"

Color swept over his cheeks and down his neck to go with the persisting flame of his ears. "Wind," he protested.

Something in the vulnerability of his pose and the dampened hope in his eyes got to me against all common sense. "I will," I agreed, sighing, knowing already it was a decision to regret.

His eyes lit up, nearly making me groan. "Thank you, my friend!" He clapped our forearms together, a gesture I numbly returned. 

His enthusiastic exclamation nearly made me cringe. "Did she say where she was from?"

"No," he grinned crookedly, "only that she was visiting—so I don't know how long I have."

"Have for what?" I asked without thinking. I bit my tongue in remand at the look he gave me. 

With a frown he studied me for a moment. "To get to know her better," he replied slowly, as if either unsure he was fully understanding my question, or as if I was naught but a slow child. Knowing him as I did, I guessed it was more the latter. 

"And if she's already gone?"

"Can't be—not for at least a month." His blithe reply was uttered matter-of-factly.

"What do you mean?"

He looked at me as if I'd gone rather daft. "The borders are closed—sealed until all the recently spotted orcs have been eradicated."

My mind went blank for an instant, then jumped to a natural conclusion for me—Father would be stuck in Imladris. This revelation lifted my spirits greatly until another thought struck me painfully.

"Wind? What is it?"

How well he knew me. The thought was far from without bitterness. I was caught for an instant by the horrible irony of the position that knowledge put me in. Realizing he was waiting for an answer, I grasped the first thing—which wouldn't give everything away—and spoke, my voice a bit raspy. "The guards are warning travelers, though?"

"Oh, yes," he agreed, eyeing me in some confusion. "Why? Know someone?"

"Father is away on business—"

"Oh," he shook his head. "Yes, he'll be warned, all right." He nodded slightly and tilted his head at me for a moment before looking away to give me a moment to compose myself.

"Well, that's… good. Yes, that's good." Inside my head a frantic voice was screaming in an absolute panic that it was _not_ good, not at all. It was so loud my words came rather disjointed, but from the sympathetic look I half registered on Leaf's face, I could tell he chalked it up to my rather ambivalent relationship with my father. My thoughts were spinning on a rather different line, however. With Father gone, Leaf interested in Alyeni, and Taradriel regretting her silence during my youth, it meant I was suddenly cast into a very precarious position I couldn't easily escape from. If I could just stay away from Leaf and Tara until Father returned, I might have a chance of surviving as ever I had. 

May all Valinor help me.

"Afternoon, Haradan," a female voice called. My insides chilled. No. Not this. Not now. Not ever, for that matter. "Hello, dear elf, I've brought you some lunch. Hello," she offered Leaf with a slight smile and nod, already turned towards me before she froze, turning back.

Leaf grinned crookedly as it became obvious Tara was trying to place him. "Hello, Tara."

It was probably the grin that got her—his had always been off-kilter. "Leaf?"

"Right you are, Tara," he agreed. I saw his eyes shift and mentally groaned. "Say, Tara," he murmured, leaning in a bit closer, stooping slightly down so he didn't tower over her so. "You had Wind create a pendant, did you not?"

"Yes," she agreed, not yet seeing where he was going. I certainly did, and was powerless to intervene. "Why?"

"Would you impart the name of the she-elf who wore it last night?"

"Oh," she murmured quietly, a bit shocked for a moment before her devious, female-trained mind put things too closely together for my peace of mind. "Met her, then?"

"Yes. Spent a good portion of the evening wandering the garden together, and then I walked her to your flet, in fact."

Tara smiled, a kindly smile to anyone who was not where I was standing. "It was good of you to see her back. Her name is Alyeni."

"Alyeni," Leaf closed his eyes as he repeated the name as if it was of greatest importance that he remember it. Then his eyes opened, bright and hopeful. "Will she be going to the festival?"

"She will," Tara agreed.

I opened my mouth to protest, but shut it again, having nothing I could say. 

Leaf's eyes danced with excitement as he pulled Tara close, bending his head to give her a peck on the cheek with a "Thanks, Tara," before clapping his arm against mine, his grip firm near my elbow. He left quickly, calling a farewell over his shoulder as the light swallowed him.

Tara looked after him, took one look at my face and then at the ready assortment of instruments that boasted both sharp edges and a close proximity to my fingers, gave me a tiny flicker of a smile, and all but ran. 

Wisely. I was never so close to strangling someone in my life.


	10. Get lost in the spell

Of course, thanks to those who reviewed… it's nice to see some people are getting interested in this one. I've found writing from one person's view/thoughts is a bit more challenging, but interesting… and since this is Wind/Alyeni/Tyran's story, it will all be from her point of view. Sorry. Calnore… perhaps this chapter will explain just how bad the revelation could be… And yes, I'm much better now, I actually have ENERGY!!! WOW!!! Of course, that's not going to last too terribly long. Finals week is NEXT WEEK! AGGGGH! Okay, I'm good now. Yeah, right. Anyway, there will likely be one more update to this story and Not a Word before break, and a couple for The Worry Stone.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It's true what they say—there is a fine line between genius and insanity. Right now I was teetering on the edge, thinking up thousands of ways to torture Taradriel for this without being caught. 

Once again she had dressed me up like she would a child… which in a way, I must admit I am. The pendant I had crafted—the only thing that seemed somewhat closer to normal to me—was once again shining on my chest. At least my feet were bare, and I could handle having my hair loose around my face, using it to hide my face when needed.

What I couldn't handle was seeing the gleaming looks of speculation in the male eyes from the receiving end. I couldn't handle seeing several heading towards me as the music continued, probably to ask for or insist on a dance. 

Before they made it to me, an arm slid around my waist from behind and drew me into the dance. I was never much of a dancer, but it was one thing the nine of us had done in the woods so we would be prepared for the adult world—taking turns being the unlucky she-elves. So I knew how to dance just well enough we only stumbled to a halt when the music shifted into another song, and I was able to look up at the elf who had pulled me from the line. 

At a slight advantage to my own height, I immediately recognized his golden looks. "Leaf!"

"Alyeni," he bowed, his eyes sparkling. "Not much for dancing, are you?"

"I prefer to spend my time at other things… and how did you find that name?"

"Beautiful, enchanting…" he paused, tilting his head to the side, "fitting."

"Leaf," I sighed, trying to fight the growing urge I had to rub my temples.

He half smiled. "Tara told me."

"Ah. She just stopped you on the street and said her name is Alyeni?"

"No," he admitted, the quirky smile returning. "I asked."

"Why in all of Middle-Earth would you do that?" I asked while weaving through the dancers to the room's edge.

Long fingers lightly brushed my palm. I crossed my arms over my middle and lifted a brow at him, mostly hidden by a bit of hair. Before I could move to escape him, he reached up and gently brushed my hair back, dropping it behind my ear—thankfully without going so far as to touch the tip. "Because I find you utterly fascinating and intensely intriguing."

I shook my head and looked around for the nearest escape. The garden loomed ahead, so of course I headed for it. And of course, was followed. "Persistent, aren't you?"

"I know when I'm not wanted," he answered quietly, "and I don't see that in your eyes."

Well of all the… "What do you see in my eyes, then?" I snapped, whirling on him.

He took his time in answering, studying my eyes so intently for such a time I was ready to tell him to forget it, afraid for a moment of what he would see in my eyes… or recognize, for that matter. Before I could get my mouth open, he spoke. "I see strength, great will, and that you hide something from everyone—possibly even yourself. As for what is more confined to me… exasperation, confusion, some fear which I don't pretend to entirely understand, yet also warmth… and awareness."

I looked away from his thoughtful expression, tightening my crossed arms. "Perhaps I know what is hidden, and fear you finding out," I whispered, choosing to avoid touching the rest if possible. 

"Oh," he murmured airily, still studying me, "I've no doubt that's part of it. But there's something more… something less definable… I rather doubt you're entirely aware of it."

I frowned, glaring at a flower as I considered everything. While I didn't know about what he claimed I hid from myself—and how could I?—the rest was a bit too close for comfort.

"And now you wish distance again," he murmured with a sigh. "Let us take a turn round the garden, then."

"Why not just allow me the distance?" I asked, with not nearly as much vinegar as I had intended.

A soft touch on my chin startled me into snapping my eyes to his, even as I attempted to pull free. His fingers cupped my chin with a certain iron hint that refused to be swayed to release me without more force than would be appropriate from me. Some of the customary brightness in his eyes had faded, but there were equal parts knowledge and stubbornness to hold me still. One long finger stroked down my chin to my throat and back again. "Because," he murmured so softly in a way which was almost a sigh, "because I am also aware of you—and I know a great desire to root out the key to the mystery you present."

"I don't want to be found out," I protested, rather weakly, since I found myself getting lost in the spell of brilliant blue eyes. 

The faintest smile touched his lips before his thumb caressed my lips lightly. "Don't you? Even in some small, hidden recess of your soul?"

"No," I whispered, and for a moment, everything was distinctly off. I knew I had come under protest, but I was no longer protesting, trapped as surely as I was standing there, uncertain for a moment if I had spoken the truth. 

The only thing I was certain of was his palm was warm against my cheek, something unconsciously drawing me to notice the slight curl of his lips before a solemn light in his eyes drove it away. "Liar," he breathed, the tone soft and compelling.

As he leaned closer, his fingers slipping into my hair, his thumb at my ear, I woke from the spell he had cast, hearing him say the same over centuries past with the same hint of amusement and affection. I turned my head away and drew slightly back. "No," I repeated, sure of my answer this time.

With a faint sigh he removed his hand from my hair and let it drop. After watching me steel my resolve for a few minutes, he tilted his head at the path and offered his hand. Accepting the first and ignoring the last, I fell into step beside him. As we drew closer to the archway leading into the great hall, music drifted to interrupt the quiet simplicity of listening to things all mortals miss—each other's footfalls, respiration. Heartbeats. "Dance with me?" It was half request, half order, so I warily regarded his hand.

"I thought we established—"

"There's no one else here," he interrupted quietly. "No one to see, to hear, no one to care." He held his hand out again. "Dance with me," he insisted. "What can it hurt?"

It could hurt what resolve against him I'd been able to regain, that I'd built against Alyeni. The words were left silent and unsaid in the still garden. With great reluctance I slowly put my hand in his. 

No doubt seeing my hesitation, he allowed more space between us than was strictly normal, and retained only the lightest of holds. "Relax," he coaxed. "Let the music take you."

I couldn't, of course, and so it was with no small amount of panic that I observed I began to do just that, the music flooding through me, blurring the lines of what could and couldn't be done. I fought with it, tried to keep track of everything, closing my eyes as I tried to block myself from hearing the unending yet ever changing music.

"Easy, I won't hurt you."

His voice was low, right in my ear. Startled skitters shivered over my skin and down my spine, snapping my eyes wide open. When had he gotten so close? It took me a moment to recover enough to consider what he said, but the shock had done me good—the music was receding, and I could think again. I drew as far away as he allowed. "Yes you will," I protested, scooting back even farther as my words surprised him into loosening his hold almost entirely before his grip tightened again. 

"I won't," he protested with a frown.

"How could you not?" I asked bitterly. If I told him everything, at best he would be shocked, feel betrayed and avoid me for a few centuries. At worst… I'd rather not consider. "The only way you couldn't would be if you let me go entirely, and never pried."

His touch lightened to almost nothing, but then—when I began to hope he would release me—he shook his head and pulled me closer. "I can't."

I closed my eyes, seeing my hope of escaping this horrid charade vanishing as so much smoke, pain threatening in the dark corners when I thought of the future more strongly than it normally did when I thought of such. "Then your curiosity shall destroy us."

"If I let go, there is no us."

"Not as we are at the moment," I agreed with a weary sigh, seeing the stubborn light in his eyes.

"And there is no other way."

Looking up for a moment, I wondered if maybe he was right. I could never see him as I had once before, as a simple but dear friend. My way of looking, at least at him, had been altered too drastically. Could I hide that from him and all the world for the rest of the ages? It was a daunting thought, but what option did I have? "Perhaps not," I slowly agreed, "but I cannot see this way—the path is unknown and perilous."

His head tilted slightly to the side, reminding me of so many times in our youth when the move had made me liken him to an inquisitive bird. Age had lessened it greatly, but I had seen that change, watched it as it happened. Ever I would recall the first, and see the transition. "I shall assist you," he murmured quietly, "where I can. The path is not over known to me, either."

"I find that hard to believe."

A small bitter smile twisted his lips. "Funny," he mused, not sounding at all like it really was, "but that's what Wind said."

"Sounds like a smart elf," I murmured tightly, a bit upset with myself for slipping up like that. 

He shrugged slightly, crossing his arms over his chest while beginning to walk. After a few steps he looked back at me, before an inclination of his head asked me along. "Wind has a gift for working with metal… as you may have noticed," he added, looking down at the pendant for an instant as I drew up to his side. "He is one of the swiftest elves I have ever raced, and he puts on a biting, grouchy front to the world few know him well enough to see past… Which is of course how he likes it." We turned down a path which led into a more secluded part of the garden as a few laughing elves left the great hall for our preferred haunt. "He is also delightful company…"

"But?"

He glanced at me and smiled somewhat ruefully. "Very shrewd. There is a 'but'. But his mother died when he was very young."

"You say that as if it's some sort of character flaw! Is it not true the Prince of these woods suffered the same?" That you did? Oh, how I wanted to utter the last phrase, barely biting my tongue in time. Death was too common in our wood, especially compared to the other realms. It was something which had personally touched every elf there, claiming someone known and loved from each, often much too young.

"Before adulthood, yes. But not when so young not even a decade of memories had been made."

He was looking towards the top of a small fruit tree as he spoke, while I was glaring crossly at the ground. "Hardly his fault!" I insisted hotly.

"No!" he agreed at once, with a vehemence I hadn't expected. He shook his head, sending blond hair and braids scattering over his shoulders. "No," he repeated more softly. "It wasn't his fault. How could an orc attack be a child's fault?"

I shivered, hating the plain truth—that though I had grown, could hunt orcs myself and had caused many to be numbered among the dead, I could still see the gape-toothed, evil, grinning faces of those orcs that had as good as killed Alyeni with her mother and brother, right in front of the tender-aged elf I had once been. Father had come soon enough to save me, but not the others. 

Leaf sighed. "No, the loss of half his family wasn't his fault. None of it is, really. But his father seems to demand his brother's worth from him as well as his own, and Wind seems unable to break free."

"Then you cannot blame him for what comes of it."

"I don't—not that there's much of anything, besides an absurd belief that should he ever marry and have children of his own he may end up like his father."

While Leaf walked on, unperturbed, I moved automatically, blinking in shock. _That_ was what he thought of me? I was afraid of being my father? Not bloody likely, considering. Still, best he think that than worry over the truth.

After that, the conversation—when there was any at all—was restricted to much more general things. As the music began to wind up, Leaf wound his steps with mine back to Tara's flet. 

"I shall find you tomorrow," he promised, before bowing his head and heading back down the path.


	11. Possessive elf and Joy kissing

Well, right now Alyeni's father is stuck in Imladris, but he will come home sometime (gulp). Alyeni/Wind/Tyran does not know that Leaf is Legolas. All she knows is that they both lost their mothers while relatively young, but times being what they are, she doesn't think this too odd. Legolas may have been outgoing as a youth, but as he grew older he began to turn in on himself as he found many were drawn to him because of his title. He _never goes to see Wind when he looks in any way like a prince. For those who actually read the author's notes, this will be annoyingly reiterated in the coming chapter. Sorry._

FarFlung: I must say that your reviews are the most interesting to read—It's lovely to find someone who articulates what they enjoy or would enjoy in the fic, rather than a simple 'hurry, write more'! As for the body language, a good portion of it probably is because Legolas is a warrior and has had ample time to study people as the prince… but also—though subconsciously—merely because he knows Wind so well. She can often read him in the same fashion, though she's aware of why that is, and tries to hide it when she notices, for fear he'll think her odd and begin thinking too hard.

And this is the final chapter before Christmas break. See you in January!

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His one tomorrow turned into several, until every moment of every waking hour seemed to involve him. Once in a while he wouldn't look for me until evening, but Leaf was quite persistent about being around Alyeni… and Tara was equally determined that he have the chance as long as my father was forced to remain outside the wood. 

This day I had managed to look around a good portion of the goings on without seeing him. I did catch a distant glance of the thus far elusive prince—he tended to keep to himself enough few knew him on sight except by his marks of title, which were easy enough to remove if he wished. Of course, those who lived in the halls knew him, especially those of the noble ladies who wished to produce the royal heir someday. I doubt they would be fooled by him removing his finery. 

My musings about the prince were cut off when an arm slipped around my waist, tucking me against someone's side. No fair guessing who. Leaf looked down with a smile I was growing familiar with, even if I was uncertain about the whole thing. "Good evening, dear lady," he murmured, even as he steered me into the dancers. "Would you?"

"Do I have a choice?" I snapped quietly, allowing him to shift his hold on me. One hand settled at my waist, the other at my wrist—I think he liked keeping track of my heartbeat. 

"Not really," he murmured, amusement clear in his voice. 

As we danced the music suddenly changed to something a bit more lively, which was rather unexpected. Before Leaf could shift into it, he was plowed into from behind. His hand on my wrist tightened, and he swung me out of the way while attempting to regain his balance as the elf who had done the plowing fell to the floor, his date drawn to the side as I had been so she also remained on her feet. In Leaf's eyes I saw both annoyance and—utmost—amusement. He offered a hand to the elf, who sheepishly took it.

"Sorry about that," he offered with an easy smile. 

I froze, and Leaf stiffened, looking the elf over, amusement fading in an instant. My thought was uttered aloud in a somewhat tight voice by him. "Joy?"

The elf looked up sharply from his cursory glance at his partner, a frown drawing his brows together as I had never before seen—for it was Joy, and his nickname was apt. "Leaf?"

Leaf laughed delightedly, before I was jostled by another pair of dancers. Leaf's arm wrapped around my shoulders, holding me closer to avoid further loss of balance… and probably to keep me from slipping away while he was distracted. Not that I was about to try, this time. "Let us escape the crowd," he murmured to Joy, who nodded at once.

"The garden?" he offered.

"Yes," Leaf agreed, tugging me along behind him, though I went willingly enough. And why wouldn't I? I hadn't seen Joy in over a thousand years, any more than Leaf had. 

Joy met us there a minute later alone. At Leaf's pointed look, Joy shrugged. "I just met her two dances ago. I've no doubt she would rather continue her evening in other ways."

Leaf inclined his head and then motioned at a path, his hand tight on my wrist as the three of us headed down to the small secluded cove he and Alyeni had met in at the prince's party two months back. Then the two male elves faced each other, and though I was supposed to be left out of it, I could almost feel them remembering… as I was remembering. Joy with his ever present smile, his constant cheerful job of peacekeeper between the others and Twig—though Twig was never much interested in his attempts… so many things that had been for one instant were again, until Joy glanced at me and broke the moment. 

His look was long and appraising, something flickering in his eyes for an uncomfortable instant before he looked at Leaf, lifting a brow. He tilted his head to indicate me. "Yours?"

"Yes."

My mouth dropped open at his flat statement. "Now wait a minute!" I protested. 

"I have," Leaf countered, the possessiveness in his tone echoed in his eyes as he looked at me. He reached up and lifted some of my hair from half blocking my right eye, languidly moving it behind my ear, before he brushed his thumb down the outer shell of my ear—starting at the tip. 

My breath sucked in and froze in my throat as his thumb slowly completed the turn. The shock of fire running through me was neither expected nor wanted, but it was not deniable, either. I let my eyes half close on a shudder, and carefully released my breath to take another. Though it took a moment—especially with him watching me as if I'd returned the intimate caress—slowly my blood stopped pounding, my breathing slowed so it wasn't so shallow. When I was able, I fully opened my eyes to glare at him.

He smiled faintly, standing a bit stiffly. "See?" he murmured so softly. "You are mine."

I turned my head away at his assessment—the intensity of my own response stunned me, but I had nothing to compare it to—no way to know if his touch did affect me more than anyone else's would, as he claimed. 

Joy cleared his throat. "Well, now. Shall we bore your lady with the details of our youth and memories, or simply agree to meet at another time and return to the dance?"

Leaf smiled ruefully. "And what memories would we share, Joy, when we both have them as clear as when they were made?"

Joy tilted his head, and slowly nodded. "Point taken. A walk in the garden for a time then?"

That was one other thing I had found was a 'guy' thing—movement seems to help those raised as I was think, for some reason. Leaf started for my hand but I turned away, holding it tightly under my crossed arms. "I can manage to walk without assistance," I muttered as bitingly as I could. 

Leaf smiled slightly and shared a smile with Joy I wasn't supposed to catch or understand—but of course I knew it was a silent, if amused, complaint about my stubborn resistance to him. Joy's smile faded slightly as he glanced at me, that something flickering in his eyes for an instant more, hidden before I could even attempt to analyze it.

They spoke only vaguely of their work, which had been a sort of pact the nine of us had made—that unless actually discovered we would keep it secret, in hopes it would keep our friendship intact should we meet again. They also complained of not finding the others, though the wood was large and there was no reason to believe they had remained in Mirkwood. 

"How long has it been since you saw Wind?" Joy asked suddenly. 

"Wind?" Leaf mused, lifting a brow—he hadn't mentioned me at all. They'd been working their way through the group, and I'd joined them last.

"Yes—we all knew where Taradriel generally lived, and you've had centuries to find her flet again… so, you could have found Wind."

Leaf laughed softly. "I suppose so… but it was only recently I discovered Tara's flet."

"Oh really?" I asked, crossing my arms to glare at him.

He smiled his crooked smile and lifted his hand to my hair, ignoring the way I shied away. "I knew before you came," he offered softly. 

I rolled my eyes, but Leaf was back to talking to Joy and so missed the gesture. 

"I saw him last before this festival began. I would say it's odd I haven't seen him, save an instant in passing, but then I only found him a short while ago, and he does not work far from the halls."

"Oh?"

"Yes," Leaf agreed on a faint murmur. "He is Haradan's new apprentice—and showing more promise than his master."

"Though that couldn't be a biased opinion."

Leaf laughed softly, his eyes sparkling as he looked at Joy. "No, it couldn't."

Further conversation was interrupted as some of the guards entered the hall with a clatter. As our walk had drawn us near the archway again, we stepped into the great hall to see what was happening. A report was apparently made to one of the head guards, who then stepped up and spoke with the King. The King's merry eyes grew solemn, and he began searching the crowds. 

"I think this means your father will be wanting you, Leaf," Joy murmured, looking at the tenseness of every guard in the room as they awaited orders, ignoring the she-elves beside them and the music around them. 

Leaf glanced sharply back over his shoulder at Joy, but slowly nodded. "I believe you are right, my friend," he agreed after a long moment, during which something passed between them which I didn't catch. The faintest smile touched his darkened eyes for an instant. "Such friends," he mused faintly, before looking again at the crowds. 

Joy rested his hand on Leaf's shoulder. "I'll see your lady home, Leaf."

Leaf nodded, smiling with his lips as his eyes grew hard and distant. Cold. "Thank you. Do it quickly."

"Of course," Joy agreed, as if that wasn't an odd request. He moved his hand to my shoulder, and drew me down the corridor to leave, but I twisted my head around in time to see Leaf stride into the room with a purpose and strength I had never seen in him before. Relief spread across several of the faces waiting around the King, one tossing him a sheathed sword as the head guard looked up, smiling at his arrival with a faint nod. 

Once we were out of sight and hearing of the halls, Joy shook his head. "I don't suppose you know what that was all about?"

"Well, the borders have been closed for orc sightings—perhaps there has been another one."

"Well, whatever he caught from reading their lips, he felt it safe for you to enter the wood—so it must be coming from the east." 

I sighed softly and shook my head.

"You can't blame him, Wind. He doesn't know."

"He doesn't know—" I broke off as my mind assimilated what he said, turning sharply to face him, my hand latching onto his arm without conscious intent, drawing him to a halt. "What?" I rasped.

Joy laughed lightly and shook his head. "What is it he calls you? Alyeni? Was that the name you stumbled over saying the first day you came to us?"

My mouth was hanging open, no words and no thoughts making themselves known.

Joy laughed again and continued on in the direction I had indicated, knowing I would catch up. Numbly I did. He was silent for a time, then looked at me appraisingly. "You are beautiful, Wind," he murmured softly. "If I'd seen you first I'd probably be a bit protective too."

"I don't need to be—"

"Wearing a sword under your skirt?" he asked quietly, lifting a brow. When I flushed, he nodded once. "Thought not." He turned and began walking again.

Without thinking about it I led him to my flet, struggling all the while with this startling news. Finally, seated in my flet before my table, I looked at him. "How did you know?"

He laughed delightedly—he had always enjoyed knowing more than others about puzzles. "Wind, dear friend, I knew before we left the wood that you were a she-elf."

"What?!?"

His laugh gaily rang out again, and he casually propped his feet up on the window sill. "Don't you remember how often we all used to wrestle?"

"Yes. So?"

"So, one day we'd been climbing trees—and Twig shoved you from one, mostly by accident. Goat managed to catch you, but we all heard some material rip. Later that day we began wrestling…"

He trailed off, probably having seen my eyes go glassy as I remembered. I remembered Goat grabbing at me as I fell past him, somehow managing to catch me even though I was twisting every which way in an attempt to either grab a branch or avoid them entirely. His grip had been sure once he had a hold on me, but the cloth that had been ripping… was the cloth that had concealed my chest. It was still intact enough that I couldn't tell when looking down, so I hadn't thought of it again… until much later that day when Joy and I had been wrestling, and from having me pinned he suddenly went still, the faintest frown touching his eyes before he let me up. "You never said anything."

"Would I be right in guessing it had something to do with your father?"

I laughed bitterly. "Oh yes."

Dropping his feet to the floor, he leaned in. "Tell me."

I started to do just that, then bit my lip.

Joy smiled tenderly, understanding my hesitation. "I won't tell him."

So I took a deep breath, and opened my mouth again. "My older brother was the only son my father had—the son he'd always wanted. Mother wanted a daughter, and so allowed herself to get pregnant again, though he had been content with one son. When the second child wasn't a second son he… he was not pleased. Nothing I did was right, he would just look at me with disapproval and disappointment, making me wither until Mother soothed the hurt away. I was with them, when they were attacked. Father came only in time to save me… and he's said often enough he wishes it was Lyran who had been saved. After they were buried he tried to turn me into Lyran… and that's about it."

"That's more than enough," Joy murmured, shaking his head. His hands were clenched, his eyes furious. "How could he do that to a child so young?" With a sigh he ran a hand through what of his hair was unconfined by braids, visibly trying to let go of his anger. "And so you have been his son ever since?" he asked quietly a few minutes later.

"Save for this year. Tara forced me to become Alyeni for the prince's birthday… where Leaf found her and took an interest Tara has been encouraging." 

Joy smiled softly. "You needn't sound like it's so bad."

"But, Joy! If he finds out—"

Joy held up a hand. "Wind, he is your friend… and from what I've seen he'd enjoy becoming more."

"Only as he now knows Alyeni. Should he ever find that Alyeni and Wind are the same person, I cannot imagine him being interested in so much as friendship with either." 

With a frown Joy studied the grain pattern in my table. "We'll have to think on that one, won't we?" he asked softly. And in silence, for a while, we did. Then we got into other things, before Joy looked out the window and winced to see the dawn approaching. "I'd best head back. Wouldn't do for Leaf to find us either together or both dressed as we were yesterday." He laughed. "Though seeing him jealous would almost be worth it." He studied me for a long moment, then cupped my cheek in his palm. "I can still read your eyes, Wind, as you can mine. So here is your comparison." With that he lightly traced my ear, while at the same time kissing me softly. Then he drew back and was gone. 

I sat in silence for a long while, staring at the door through which he had left without looking back. "Damn!" I finally exclaimed, letting my head drop back.


	12. I intend to run

It's nice to see people are warming up to this story. Truly, I think it's one of my favorites I've ever written, though some of the really short ones in 'A Moment in Immortal Time' come closest of what I have posted. Thank you for the reviews… and I'm sorry I don't have more for you. I had papers to write over break, and the power cord on my computer broke, so I spent most of the time waiting for hp to send me the correct cord. Third time's the charm, but I spent most of my computer time on those darned papers. Anyway…

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I was heartily cursing King Thranduil's old idea of turning the normal winter celebration into a month long one at the end—or beginning, as you like—of a new century. It was the only reason most elves ever really marked the passing of the years. This year, instead of glancing through the crowds from a booth set up with displays of my work from the periphery, I was in a dress, doing my best to flitter unnoticed through the hoards of merry wood-elves as they bantered and bartered, feasted and drank, danced and sang loudly in their enjoyment of their holiday.

When would the bloody border be open? As Wind I had asked Leaf whenever I saw him, for all the good that did. I didn't see him often—as Wind, anyway. Tara had managed to arrange things so I was almost constantly with him, but as Alyeni. 

It was getting bad. Really bad. I missed my leggings, but not only for the freedom of movement they allowed, or the joyous sense of familiarity. I missed the pockets more. If I only had pockets in my dress to put my hands in, I wouldn't have to constantly be on guard against Leaf. He showed an odd persistence in attempting to touch me. 

"What's put the frown on your face this time?" Tara asked with a sigh.

I sent her a small, wicked smile. She was beginning to wear down, growing weary of arguing with me every day about whether I would appear as Alyeni or Tyran. "Leaf."

"What about him?"

"He keeps trying to touch me."

She rolled her eyes. "And that's a bad thing?"

"Tara!"

She sighed and shook her head at me. "He's quite a fine specimen of elf, you know. I rather expect you noticed." She smiled at my attempt to look nonchalant. "Yes, I thought so. And he's interested in you as well, or he wouldn't be coming around as often as he does. What's the problem?"

"Tara, if he finds out—"

"He'll no doubt be stunned, and angry, at least at first. But after that, you could have a chance—"

"Be realistic, Tara. At best he'll avoid me for a few centuries."

She glared at me for a while, then frowned and looked away. "Well, the border will be open soon enough—your father will come back, and then, of course, you won't have to worry. He'll never allow even a hint of you anymore."

With a sigh I ran a hand through my hair. "Tara."

"But until then, you may as well make the best of it."

"The best of it? And do what?" Fall in love with my best friend? Hardly a good idea, when I would have to go from being his partner in dances and walks to his old friend without a breath. 

"Let him touch you. Enjoy it. Store up memories for the centuries approaching when you will be forced to remain your father's son."

My jaw clenched, first at her suggestion, then a surprising sense of loss when I thought of never being Alyeni again. Oh, Valar. I was starting to enjoy Leaf as a she-elf, the small part of me that had always been female, no matter how buried, not wanting to let him go so simply. But I shook my head and the sense came rushing back. "If he touches me, Tara, he'll know something's odd."

"What on Middle-Earth do you mean?"

I sighed and shook my head. "You knew enough to keep me fitted with long-sleeved dresses. Why?"

"Because you've scarred your arms at work. They haven't all faded, and I thought they would cause some questions."

"And what of my hands, then? Unlike my arms, they are only rarely protected." My hands were probably rougher than any guard's, especially considering that in addition to my work—which required a certain deftness with weapons, I also did all of my cleaning, hunted for meat, and cooked when I had the supplies and time. I had never been very gentle with my hands. Mother used to laugh when I pouted about not being able to copy her stitch work, saying the patience and care would come in time. 

"No she-elf who keeps a flet has the smooth hands of a lady. He would not expect it of you."

"Nor would he expect the scars and burns."

"Cleaning—especially of meat—can cause scars through clumsiness or misstep. Burns from the cooking fires."

"Calluses?"

"Scrubbing. Mending. Gathering, planting. Take your pick."

"Rough palms?"

"Stop nitpicking. Even if he notices, he won't ask."

My frown was pointless… because I knew she was right. Leaf wouldn't ask, though he would certainly notice. Just as I had noticed the rough places on his hands from handling weapons, the calluses on his first two fingers on his right hand from hours upon hours with his favorite of all—his bow. Still, how could I let him any closer?

"Alyeni? Tara?"

I closed my eyes and bowed my head, uncertainty battling a bit longer than I had hoped it would as Leaf entered. 

"Alye?" he asked softly, coming around me, one hand sliding under my chin to lift it. "What's wrong?"

I blinked at him. "What'd you call me?"

He frowned for an instant before it hit him. "Oh. Alye."

"Where did you hear that?" I asked, turning to glare at Tara, one brow lifting as she pretended not to notice, going about washing her dishes without looking up. 

He tilted his head, following my gaze. "Do you not like the nickname?"

"Don't change the subject."

He smiled and shook his head, one finger running down to my throat and back. "I was not gossiping about you… to Tara."

"To Tara?" I asked, extremely uncomfortable with the thought of him speaking about me with anyone who wasn't… me.

"I've told Wind a bit about you, of course."

"Only Wind?"

"Well, my father wished to know where—and with whom—I was spending so much of the festival."

"And I suppose you plan to drag me to meet him?"

"No," he shook his head slightly. "He enjoys the festival enough without enduring my presence—we manage that enough through the year."

"I didn't realize you didn't get along with your father," I murmured quietly, frowning. Were my troubles with my own father so great I hadn't noticed his?

"Oh, we get along fine," he murmured with a small smile. "But we both sort of joke about it—it seems we're the only ones who can stand each other… though I have Wind and Joy… and you," he finished quietly, his hand sliding down my arm to take my hand in his. 

"No one else?" I asked quietly, finding it hard to believe I could play such a role for such an elf. With a frown, I admitted—at least to myself—that he was much the same for me… though I had more of a problem with it than he did… and that only because I was trying not to mix two people up. At least with Joy I didn't have to worry about it. Already he had covered one slip up of mine, and so beautifully Leaf hadn't noticed.

He shook his head with a slight shrug and a faint smile. "All I need," he offered quietly, misinterpreting my lowered eyes. He took my other hand and tugged lightly, walking backwards, drawing me along. "Good bye, Tara."

"Night, Leaf." Tara looked up just long enough to send me a knowing look before she went back to her chores. 

I rolled my eyes to the stars but followed Leaf down the ladder to the ground. "And what's tonight to be?"

He laughed softly, looking up at the canopy of leaves above us, his hands clasped lightly behind his back. Though he played the part with boyish earnestness, he was no innocent. The devilish smile he sent my way was enough proof of that. "Whatever we make of it?" he asked softly, the tone indicating he knew I would reject the suggestion.

"Leaf," I sighed.

His soft chuckle echoed the nearest trees, his hands sliding apart, one slipping over to attempt to take mine. He glanced at me in surprise when I neither dodged him nor pulled away. A small smile tilted his lips, pleasure in his gentle gaze as he threaded his fingers through mine, his thumb arching under the material of my sleeve, pausing over the pulse in my wrist for a moment before moving again. "The garden is always open," he offered quietly, "or we could dance for a while… or even wander the halls." Some sound caught his ear, turning his head sharply to the wood. His eyes narrowed for a fraction of an instant, before he offered me a slight smile even as he shifted me to his other side so smoothly I wouldn't have thought about it… except that it was closer to the halls, the village, and farther from the sound. It also made it easier for him to reach the dagger at his waist, if needed. "Or there is the library, or even the music room, if the others no longer hold your interest."

"Smooth," I murmured, "but what did you hear?" I had heard only the faintest of noises… and it didn't register as something to fear.

"Probably nothing," he murmured after glancing at me in surprise, a faint smile tilting his lips. "But all the same, would you protest walking in silence until we are closer?"

"Not at all," I answered, thinking less talk would be a good thing… for a few steps. Then my ears sharpened to hear the slight hint of ground crushed beneath our feet, the swish of my skirts, the slight sound of his dagger's sheath rubbing his leather belt, and everything. Every one of his breaths, every heartbeat. "Leaf?" I whispered softly, somehow unable to completely break the spell. 

"Hmm?" he murmured back.

I closed my eyes, hearing his heart had sped up when I spoke. "Perhaps we should hurry to the halls?"

"Hurry?" he asked indolently. "Why would we wish to do that?"

"Because I would rather not worry," I retorted a bit more sharply than was necessary. "And as you seem determined to put on a carefree front when you've clearly been put on alert, you may as well follow and continue being absurdly overprotective—but I'm not staying here for no good reason!" With that I took off, racing with all speed from the forest… from the elf doing his best to keep up with me. Feeling him come closer, I gave another burst of speed, making up for the slowing affect of layered skirts. 

When I had to slow or risk running into someone entering or exiting the gates, a pair of arms wrapped me from behind, drawing me to the shadowed side. "Alye," Leaf breathed heavily into my ear, collapsing against the mountain, "you could at least have the decency to appear winded."

I turned in his arms and studied him, watched as his breathing slowed. "We didn't run that far," I protested when he was almost back to normal. 

He laughed for an instant, before his need for air cut it off. "Dear elf," he murmured, "I have only known two elves before you who could begin that run without breathing hard." His grin was lopsided, full of warmth as one hand lifted from my waist to settle in my hair. "But if you want the truth," he murmured, "I'm not surprised." He pulled me closer, settling me between his thighs as he leaned against the cool stone. "You're so different in every other way, what's one more?"

"How about several more?"

His hand slipped from my hair down my back. "I like surprises," he insisted quietly, drawing me even closer. 

"Not all of them, no doubt."

He thought about that for a moment. "True enough," he agreed, "but I like all good ones… and even those that aren't so nice help keep life interesting."

"You find life uninteresting?" I asked dryly.

He smiled crookedly. "Not recently."

"Before?"

"Before it was rather mundane. Get up, bathe, get dressed, see what father wishes me to do, do it, dine with the stuffy aristocrats, dance with the hall ladies, be reasonably courteous to them, and then escape to bed once more. Forever the same loop, with very few moments of relief."

"Except for Wind?"

He shook his head. "Until Wind. Since we ran across each other I've had someone I could talk to…"

"Do you?"

He shrugged.

"Uh-huh."

"What?"

"Meaning you're a guy, and guys don't talk about things."

He smiled, somewhat sheepishly, and half shrugged. "I suppose we don't, really. But there's no real need to. Just knowing that if I need him, he'll be there is more than enough."

"What of when he goes west? Will you go along?"

Leaf frowned, then tilted his head down in thought. 

As anyone walking past would see us already rather… close… the position was a bit too intimate for me, as it appeared to anyone who didn't know he was deep in thought that he was gazing down my bodice in fascination. "Come on," I murmured, brushing some hair back from his brow, garnering the surprised glance I'd expected. "We're outside a century festival, a winter festival, and I've gotten you thinking of the painful future. Let us forget it in the music." 

His eyes were faintly shadowed and entirely unguarded. His gaze dropped to my lips, and a quiver shot through my stomach as a battle took place within me, knowing what was almost definitely coming. Part of me wanted to draw back—and started to do so—while another part wanted to stay where I was. He caught me before I was free and pulled me forward, his lips pressing against mine as his arms held me solidly. 

The battle fell to a stuttering halt, the arguments stilled in the shocked instant in which I was too stunned to know anything other than I was being kissed. Then I found that though thoughts had apparently failed me, feeling existed… and I was rather enjoying this, the quiver turning into a curling frisson of pleasure low in my belly. All the reasons I shouldn't—couldn't—came back as he ended the kiss. He tucked me against him, tilting my head under his chin, urging my head to his shoulder with a gentle strength. 

He spoke while I was still trying to figure out how to get away gracefully, without merely running screaming from his arms as a large part of me wished… while a much smaller part enjoyed being held, and wanted to burrow into his arms forever, knowing I wasn't imagining there being so much more in an instant of his kiss than in Joy's entire touch from two weeks before. "Alye," he whispered intently, the hand not at my waist stroking through my hair. "Alye, please don't regret this." 

"How can I not?" I asked, still trying to convince my limbs to move away. 

"You can remind yourself it was bound to happen," he offered, his tone quietly helpful. 

"If it was, I should have avoided you to avoid it." 

He groaned softly. "Why? Why are you so against this? Against me?"

It was my turn to groan. "I'm not against you," I protested, finally drawing back enough I saw his shadowed eyes. "I just… I can't do this. With anyone. Ever."

With a dull thud his head rested against the side of the mountain. "What is it with elves I know believing they could never find love?"

"Love?" I asked a bit sharply, pulling entirely away. "I know little of such, and nothing that would assist me through this world. Once the borders are open, Leaf, you will never see me again."

For a long moment he gazed at me, as if testing if I really meant what I said. "You mean it," he stated at last, shifting into a more lazed position against the cliff face, the bright wary watchfulness of his eyes anything but relaxed. "And yet you do care about me—don't wish me hurt. Why then, would you leave?" he asked softly, as if asking the stars instead of someone who could answer. 

"So that you aren't hurt," I sighed, shaking my head. "Leaf, should you find out why I pull back, you would understand… even as anything you ever felt towards me turned to hate." 

"I could never hate you," he protested, pushing away from the mountain. When he began to reach for me, I backed up.

"I'm leaving when the borders open," I insisted, warning us both to guard ourselves against the other. 

"Then I shall have to see that they are never opened," he declared at last, a lightning move I didn't see coming folding me in his embrace once again. "Because I shan't lose you."

"I don't want to lose you," I sighed softly. "So I must go."

Confusion filled his face and darkened his eyes. "Alyeni, that doesn't make any sense."

"It does from where I'm standing, I'm afraid." I pulled away, holding out a shaking hand when he moved forward again. "Please don't."

"How can I not?" he asked, his voice a deep, tortured rumble. "How can you expect me to just let you walk away?"

"I don't expect that," I countered, already turning. "I intend to run." 

I did. 

I don't know if he followed me, or if he knew it a hopeless endeavor, but I knew as I slowed to a trot near Tara's flet that he wasn't close. I changed quickly, avoiding her eyes and her questions about why I was back early, and then ran to my flet, up the ladder and just stopped, wondering what I could do now… anything to avoid thinking for a while. 

A quick glance around my flet provided nothing but some water to slack my sudden thirst—and a hiding place for the pendant I'd forgotten to leave behind. I ripped it from my neck and let it sink to the bottom of the barrel. Then I nodded my head quickly.  There was nothing else to do now, but run. 

So I went down the ladder after adding a sword, bow and a quiver to my dagger. I took off, letting the wind rushing past my ears numb the thoughts that surrounded me, concentrating only on the beat of my heart and the blessed silence of the wood. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	13. Plots and Princes

Yup, I'm back, and loving it. I've been told I'm obsessed. Is that a bad thing? : )

Well, two-thirds of my nice reviewers expected something to probably happen to her as she ran away. She's too stubborn, and the spiders don't dare come close enough to trouble her, especially with so many elves out and about with the festival. The others probably taught her a lot of hand to hand, too, should it have come down to that. In short, she can take care of herself, though the dress would no doubt hinder her. 

That said, here's a part I think some have been waiting for. It's a few days after the previous chapter.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I slowed my run to a jog on one of the last days of the festival, coming upon the outdoor party. I changed to a walk and nodded acknowledgement at some of the elves I knew, moving over to the table of drinks and food, quickly draining the water I took. Not seeing Leaf or Joy, I wandered through the crowd and then beyond it, taking comfort in the fact I didn't need the sword or bow I had left behind on this night—with the festivities, there were guards closer, and even those celebrating were mostly on guard. 

"It has been arranged as you wished," a male voice murmured solemnly. It was the solemn tone that got me, made me listen with one ear even as I continued walking. 

"Good. I sincerely doubt the old boy will see this coming." This voice was pleased, yet tired somehow. It was also familiar—a short laugh told me I did know this elf, after all. The harsh note in his voice was new to me, though. "It will be a day the King will never forget—he will be completely fooled."

The King? Fooled? I blinked and stopped, realizing that I had apparently stumbled upon a plot of some sort _against_ the King! The knot of pain in my gut compounded a thousand times—I knew the one behind it, too. 

"If that is all?" the first voice asked.

"It is," he agreed, and I could hear an elf leave, and slowly moved to find the elf alone in the clearing. "Wind!" he exclaimed, his eyes brightening on seeing me. Then he frowned, seeing my blank face. "What's wrong?"

"You are plotting against the King?"

Leaf blinked at me. "Plotting?" he asked, in apparent confusion. Then he laughed. "No, no! Not at all. Well, sort of, but—"

I grabbed the first weapon I had seen—the sword at his waist—and now had its point at his throat, before shifting it so the flat of the blade pressed against the skin on the left side of his neck. A quick flick from me would send it through the pulsing measure of life I could see beating there. 

He closed his mouth for a moment, studying my face. Slowly he held his hands slightly out to the side, indicating a lack of intent to fight. "Wind, you can get the betrayed look off your face. I've done nothing wrong."

"Yet," I snapped.

He sighed carefully, mindful of the blade. "You would cut me with your own craft?"

It was then, and only then, that I noticed the familiar perfection of the blade I held. I glanced down, taking in the blade in a glance before lifting my eyes to hold him in place… and then I recognized the blade. It was one of mine, one that had been specially ordered… 

"As you know, the King's birthday is approaching. He never allows much in way of festivities, so I have organized a gathering of those closest to being his friends as a surprise." 

Utterly numb to the tip of my fingers, the sword clattered to the ground. Suddenly three elves appeared, and were ready to take me off to the dungeons. 

"No," Leaf murmured, never taking his eyes off of me.

"But, your highness—"

"He will come along willingly. You have no need to guard or disarm him." His face was grim as he turned away, leading the way back into the halls. 

One of the guards beside me picked up the blade I had crafted, while the third to arrive went—presumably—to inform the King. With heavy reluctance I trudged after them, entered a room I had never seen before, but in which Leaf was apparently quite comfortable. 

"You are dismissed," he stated with a wave of his hand.

"But—"

"Now." The word was quiet, but backed up by the hard gaze and his now obvious presence, I wasn't surprised to see them beat a hasty retreat. When the door opened a moment later, King Thranduil himself entered the room, looking more upset than I had thought the King could. 

"Legolas, are you—"

"Dismissed!" Leaf's voice overrode his father's, sending those who had accompanied the King warily out of the room. "I am perfectly fine, Father," he stated once the door had closed, though I didn't doubt the elves were still hovering nervously around outside.

"I was told you had been attacked," King Thranduil stated in disapproval, narrowly looking his son over, before turning a look on me that could have melted iron.

"Father, this is one of my old friends from the time I spent in the wood. He came across me planning something—which would admittedly sound like sinister plans to anyone not in the know—and was willing to defend you against even his best and oldest friend."

"You were disarmed?"

"He took my sword," Leaf agreed with a half shrug. "I was a bit off guard," he admitted, lowering his eyes slightly in shame for the admission, before lifting them again with a certain amount of defiance. "But only because I knew I was in no danger." 

King Thranduil looked at me again, measuring me as one of his son's friends instead of his potential killer. "Name?"

I froze for an instant, knowing I couldn't lie to the King… "Most have called me Tyran." 

"Occupation?"

"Smith. It was my hand which shaped that blade," I murmured, nodding at the sword which had been returned to Leaf, and again rested in waiting at his side.

One of the King's brows lifted. "You are the smith who has replaced Torrei in such matters?"

"Thanks to Lea—Legolas." 

Leaf smiled slightly, before tilting a look at the king. "Father?"

King Thranduil looked at me for a long, hard moment. "Before this evening, how would you have considered my son?"

"As the prince I had never seen, or the elf I grew up with?"

"The latter."

"As one of my dearest friends—and until quite recently, the only one I had come across outside the wood. I would gladly do anything for him I could… though I might grumble about it."

"Good-naturedly," Leaf put in softly. 

"And now?"

I looked at the carpet, trying to keep it confined to Tyran. "I am a bit surprised… but it also fills in some gaps in what he has told me about his life. If he would have me as a friend, I would rather not have it lost." As for Alyeni… Here I thought I was about as far from the normal she-elf as could be, and I'd done what every one had in some small part of herself already done—fallen in love with the prince. Of all the stupid things to do. 

King Thranduil studied me for a while longer, and then nodded. "Very well. As you have shown me a loyalty greater than many would, considering the circumstances, your actions are pardoned. As for the friendship that has been between you—I leave it there." 

Leaf was half smiling when I looked at him. Without a word, I knew it was all right. Our forearms crashed together with enthusiasm, his free hand clapped on my shoulder. He laughed lightly, his eyes bright as he studied me. "We promised as we left we would always be the best of friends," he reminded me, his grin as crooked as ever. "Tyran," he added. 

"Prince Legolas," I teased in turn, mock bowing my head to him. 

He chuckled lightly even as the door opened. The guards came to a halt, drawing their weapons against my apparently renewed attack. "I shall, no doubt, be wished to do my duty for the rest of the evening. Perhaps I shall find you tomorrow?"

"What, not spending the time with that elf of yours?"

His eyes darkened, his jaw going tense. "The borders are open, my friend. She's gone."

Not knowing what to say—how could I say I was sorry when I wasn't?—I rested my hand on his shoulder. "In time there will be another," I counseled after a moment.

His laugh was soft and bitter. "That, I doubt. Good day," he bowed his head slightly to me, indicating I was as good as dismissed. 

Well, though sometimes I would have been annoyed by that, I was grateful for what he was doing at the moment—which was getting me out of a sticky situation with as much quiet grace as possible.


	14. Flood the world

Answers/comments to reviews: 

Calenore: She is a loyal wood-elf, and _anyone_ who threatens her king is in for it. Besides, she was feeling betrayed at the time… and just hold on a bit longer for that fessing up part.

Farflung: You're right, I see it quite clearly. It's hard to write something and then read it as if you never have before, which is my only defense. And in Leaf's defense… well, read below for that. Yup, he's the only child Thranduil has. Crowned and only prince of Mirkwood. As for the dense but sweet—she was raised as a _guy_ after all… And angst is on the way…

Lady Jade: What 'other'? Oh, do you mean the 'other' Wind consoles Leaf with? If so… I'll break a standing rule and just say… not in this fic. 

Davan: I always think it's funny when reviewers suggest I do exactly what I've already almost done. (I generally have the next chapter at least half written when one goes up, if not more. I like to read through and _try_ to catch errors in grammar and spelling, though.) 

Michelle: Glad you like it… and as for the 'lack of shock'… I'll admit I had some trouble figuring out how to write that in her view, so I settled for making her numb enough from it that the sword slips from her fingers. 

To the rest of you who reviewed/e-mailed/read: thanks! I think this is either the most or close to the most reviews I have _ever_ gotten for a single chapter. A little bit more confusion, a bit more pressure, and father comes home…

Phew! I was beginning to think I would never be able to get this up! My computer was trying to say it couldn't save to a floppy, but it finally decided to be nice and let me save, so on to the chapter!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Don't mess up!" a sharp voice called just before my blow _would have_ struck perfectly on the hot metal. 

Would have. And if wishes were water droplets I could flood the world. 

I rolled my eyes and set the iron aside, removing my mask to glare properly. "Joy," I complained.

He half-smiled at me, but then looked somewhat behind him. "You coming?"

"Yes," Leaf sighed, his arms crossed over his middle, almost as if trying to control some internal pain. His normally bright eyes were dimmer than ever I had seen them, his movements somewhat slow—as if he didn't have anywhere to be that was worth getting to.

"Leaf, what happened to you?"

He looked at me silently for a long moment, then blinked and looked down with a hint of a shrug. Before long he was called outside, wandering away silently, if sluggishly. 

"Joy, what—"

"Don't you know?" he asked sharply, all pretense of laughter gone from his eyes. "He is suffering, Wind. If he doesn't snap back soon…"

"What?" I breathed in utter horror. 

"She as good as broke his heart by leaving. Her not coming back…" 

I closed my eyes and bowed my head. "How can she?"

Joy looked at me for a while, then shook his head. "I know you love him… I just can't tell how. Any way it is, though, you definitely are in better shape than he is. You could have the decency to miss him… though you of course get to see him, while he never sees her."

"She's here, just as I am. If he can't see that—"

"How could he?" Joy shook his head at me. "Tyran, you have to do something."

"There is nothing I can do," I insisted somewhat stubbornly.

He looked at me, then grabbed a blade from the wall, letting it clatter onto the table. "Then be merciful about killing him—make it quick instead of watching him slowly fade away." He whirled and stalked out without looking back, swallowed up by the light. 

Fade away? 

I fell back into my chair, my work forgotten for a long time. Eventually I automatically started working again, but even Haradan could tell it wasn't worth the force put into the blows, so he sent me home early. Instead of doing that, I pulled a blade from the wall, sheathing the sword at my waist. 

After a long, long run and two more days off—which thankfully was vacation Haradan and I had planned on before the festival—I found myself at my tree without thinking about where I was going. 

I smiled faintly—I always wound my way back here, whether I meant to or not. Well, some troubles could only be taken to the stars and the walls you can call your own. With a soft sigh I climbed up, hanging my bow up before setting my quiver on the floor, a small bird hanging from my fingers. Had I been thinking about where I was going, I would have taken it to Tara's on my way back. Although really, since tomorrow was wide open as well, I could take care of it myself. 

"Where have you been, boy?"

Inside I cringed, but centuries of that same reaction to his voice had given me a mask so he didn't see the effect he had on me. "Hunting," I half lied, holding up the bird as proof of my semi-faulty claim. 

My father was in one of my two chairs, and had pulled it across the room in such a way he was in shadows. It was odd, but though a mere half inch taller than I was he seemed huge to me, somehow, even when he was sitting down. "What have you been doing while I was in Imladris?"

"I spent time with friends, enjoyed the festival."

"Is that so?"

Something in his tone warned me, made my eyes move to him with a wariness I couldn't explain, but knew to trust. "It is," I stated cautiously. 

"That's odd then. No one recalls seeing you but for an instant here or there, or for the last few days." He lifted a brow at me, and then abruptly changed subjects. "I hear things have been interesting at the halls. Apparently someone attacked the prince while he was in the beginning stages of fading. Imagine my surprise when the name given as the she-elf who captured our prince was the same one my wife gave my daughter."

"What a coincidence," I managed through my dry throat. 

He held up the pendant, the sudden flash of light on the flowing lines seeming to condemn me even before he spoke the words I expected. "Don't lie to me, boy." 

"It must have fallen off of Leaf's elf. She was here a few times." To my Father, I could—and often did—lie without guilt. Anyone else I would have trouble with, but not with the one elf I should have had the hardest time being dishonest with. Probably because I knew what would happen if he always got the truth from me.

He got up, his eyes hard with a flame of anger not tempered by reason. Before I could think to move, he struck me with the hand holding the pendant, two long jagged wounds gouged into my cheek. "No son of mine creates jewelry. Understood?"

My face hurt. My jaw hurt. By the Valar, _I_ hurt. Only now my outside matched my inside—aching and bleeding. "Yes, sir," I stated through clenched teeth, feeling my shoulder grow warm from the blood dripping into my tunic, staining my shirt. 

"We leave for the undying lands in the spring."

I started to open my mouth to protest, and he started to lift his hand. It was warning enough. I remained silent, clenching my jaw against sound. When he left I let out a sigh and went to the water barrel, finding he had dumped it as I half expected. 

With a shake of my head I picked up a few of the broken necklace links and set them on the table, grabbing the bird as I placed the sword at my waist again. It was with a heavy heart I wound my steps to Taradriel's flet. 

She looked up from whatever she was doing, took one look at me and nearly knocked the small table beside her over in her haste to get to her feet. "By the Valar! What happened to you, dear elf?"

I just shook my head, and held out the bird.

"You came over here to give me that?" she asked sharply, her eye tracing the blood dripping from my chin to stain my hair and shoulder. Drip. Drip. 

I sighed softly, having long years ago given up on the anger and pain that went with being struck by my father. "And to get some water. Father dumped mine out." 

She shook her head while biting her lip, then shoved me back into the chair I usually used. "That idiot elf," she grumbled, pushing my hair back, gently pulling the blood stained pieces from the wounds before quickly securing the strands behind me as she went for a cloth, dropping it into the water before getting a bowl and an herb from a shelf. She sighed and tended the wounds, shaking her head and muttering every now and again. "What did this?" she asked softly. 

I held up the pendant, unaware until then that I still held it. "He found it, and heard that Alyeni wore it, and that I had crafted it. No son of his is to make jewelry," I finished bitterly, dropping the pendant to the table. 

"Oh, Wind," a soft voice sighed from the other side of the flet.

My head snapped around, making me wince as Tara was jolted into pressing against the wound.

Leaf flinched when he saw my face, my bloodied clothes, and began shaking his head. "Wind," he sighed, moving to sit in front of me, his eyes following the renewed flow of blood. "You have to get away from him."

"I can't. Rules are rules, unwritten or not… and he plans that we shall go west in the spring." 

Tara froze. "No."

"Wind, you can't—" He broke off and looked down at my tightly clenched hands, slowly taking the pendant from them, setting it on the table with fingers that held a fine tremor. "You can't leave," he insisted, his voice rough as he picked up another cloth to wrap around my hands, since I had held the pendant so tightly it had ripped my palms. 

"I don't want to," I whispered softly, my words trailing off as Tara began cleaning my wounds again, allowing another trickle of blood to run down my cheek. "But I have no choice."

"You could go before the king to be released from him," Leaf stated suddenly, his eyes sparking with anger as he watched the blood drip from my chin to my lap. "Merely the sight of you would be enough."

"But it is only my word he did it. If he says I fell and blame him…" I shook my head, smiling faintly. "I've considered that for centuries, Leaf. I need a good reason."

"I'd say you've got one," Tara murmured, her eyes darkening, hinting at her true meaning though she said nothing more. As she continued to fuss, we fell silent. 

I noticed Leaf's eyes were always drawn back to the pendant. I nudged Tara with my foot and tilted my head at him, waiting while she noticed what he did. 

She looked at it, then at me. I nodded quickly, so she picked it up, his dimmed eyes following it. "Well, as it's been left behind," she murmured softly, hesitating. "Perhaps you would like it?" she finished a bit lamely, holding it out to him. 

He looked up at her in surprise, his lips parting as he studied her face for any sign of insincerity before he reached out, his fingers shaking slightly as they hovered over the cool metal for a long moment. His eyes closed as he held it, his lips forming 'Alye' inaudibly as he cradled the metal. 

The only recently familiar burn of tears stung behind my lids, but I held them back as ever, shaking my head at the pain Leaf was suffering. Tara's hand on my shoulder was a quiet comfort, but she looked troubled, shaking her head as I asked in a glance if she had a solution. As Tara finished cleaning me up, Leaf began asking quiet questions of her. My guess would be to gather information, to talk about _her_ was the reason he'd come here in the first place. 

He looked awful, eyes so dull and skin too pale. And it was my fault. But I couldn't see anything I could do…


	15. For better or worse

The whole wood knew now. They all knew the prince was fading of a broken heart. Most of them knew—or thought they knew—her name, too. Alyeni. My dearest friend was dying because he missed me. And still my father wouldn't budge. 

So, for better or worse, I stood before King Thranduil now, seeing Leaf beside him, a shadow of himself. Recognition had shown in the King's eyes for an instant, leaving me uncertain if that was a good thing, but he lifted a hand for silence before I could decide. "You have brought your father before me to what end?"

"I wish to be declared free from his rule," I stated quietly. Leaf's eyes lifted to mine for a moment, a faint spark of life showing in his eyes for an instant. 

"It is the duty of a son to follow his father's orders," King Thranduil murmured with a faint frown. "Why do you think you should be exempt from this?"

"If his orders were just, I would not, sire."

"Your highness, if I may—"

King Thranduil held up his hand, silencing my father. "I hear his side first. Then, if you have anything to say, you can say it." He looked back at me, and nodded.

I took a deep breath, closing my eyes to try and gather my thoughts. "Your son follows your orders because they are good, and just. If, however, you ordered him to find a nest of spiders, and kill one, sending him out with no weapon into the dark, who would be at fault for his death? Your son, for following orders without question? Or you, for giving him a dangerous order?"

"In such a case, I would be at fault," King Thranduil stated quietly. "Your claim is along these lines?"

"Worse, in a way, because it is no longer merely my life over which he has control. In his silence he has condemned one elf to possible death." My tongue tripped over possible, nearly saying probable, but somehow I still couldn't believe it, though Leaf had begun to fade before my eyes.

My father exploded at this, but two guards and a stern glare from the king later, he was silent again. King Thranduil turned back to me. "This is a grave accusation. Have you any proof of your claim?"

"I have… but perhaps first I should explain something of my past." King Thranduil nodded thoughtfully after a moment, motioning for me to go on. "My mother bore two children before she died. My father doted upon his eldest, his dear son. On an outing with my brother and mother, we were attacked by orcs. I watched my mother die, my brother die, and I saw the orc lift his blade over his head to send me with them. My father stopped him, and our family was buried. The following day I was sent into the wood to play like a good lad, and he would never hear anything against what he was doing—making me into his only son."

"Hardly sounds like a problem," King Thranduil stated cautiously, glancing at Leaf, who had started when I said I had nearly been killed as well—he had assumed, since I had never said otherwise, that I had been elsewhere during the attack. 

I sighed. "Except that ever since Lyran died, my mother's daughter has been forced to become my father's son." Before that could sink in I pushed back the hood of my cloak, crossing my arms over my chest in a gesture half meant to defend me against the world, and partially meant to show that I was, in fact, female. Unable to meet anyone's gaze, I stared at the floor. The stunned silence went on so long I finally looked up at the King, resolutely looking nowhere else. "For over a thousand years I have worked for myself, cleaned for myself. I have as good as been a male elf—there is no reason to believe I cannot continue to care for myself when he goes west." 

One of King Thranduil's brows lifted. "How old were you when he began this… farce?"

"Eight. Nearly nine."

"Hundred?"

I shook my head. "Years." 

Silence fell again. King Thranduil looked at my father. "Now. Have you anything to say?" His voice had gone noticeably hard and cold.

"Only that I can do whatever I wish with my son."

I couldn't stand it any longer. The wood knew, so couldn't I finally say it? "Your son died! And you did your best to bury your daughter with him." 

Pure hatred blazed in his eyes as he came towards me. "I should never have stopped that orc," he snarled, before striking me across the face. 

The guards held him before he could move again, so I let out a sigh and looked up at the throne. "Sire?" I asked softly, wishing only to run back to my flet to curl up in a ball even as I kept myself resolutely steady on my feet as if the blow had been nothing… and if it weren't for the remaining wounds on my cheek from his last attack, it would have been light punishment when compared to other times. The looks I had feared—derisive, condemning—were on the faces of all… except the King and Leaf. Poor Leaf looked like he'd stepped out onto solid ground only to have it dissolve beneath his feet. 

King Thranduil frowned slightly. "Have you any other family?"

"As far as I am aware my father broke all ties when he brought Mother to Mirkwood."

"And you do not fear for attracting male company without a protective relation?"

"I have been that relation, sire," I murmured quietly. "I've made the weapons they use, and I've learned their use over the last two thousand years." I snorted and shook my head. "As for attracting attention—only as a freak. Never anything else."

King Thranduil studied me much as he had once before, and slowly smiled. "You are a remarkable elf. Will this action free the life of the other elf you spoke of?"

"It is for that hope I have come," I answered, bowing my head slightly to avoid the growing look of betrayal in Leaf's eyes. 

The King nodded slightly. "You have been successful in your plea. You are hereby allowed to stay or leave as you wish."

"Thank you, sire."

"As for your father… He shall be accompanied west so I am certain he goes—and soon. I do not desire such an elf in my realm a moment longer than utterly necessary." 

I nodded slightly, and with a wave of his hand, was released. When my eyes found Leaf, he was glaring at the floor before him, unwilling to look at me. With a heavy sigh I gathered my wits about me, pulled my hood up, and walked out with all the confidence I could muster from centuries of being a male elf instead of a nameless she-elf. Once I was far enough from the gate, I ran. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Alyeni is free! … But Leaf sure didn't seem too thrilled. Argh. I wince just _thinking_ what's going through his head. I don't really mind that, though. It's kinda cool to get this attached to characters. 

Queenieb: Obviously, I agree she had to go before the King. As for getting her act together… not quite yet, huh?

Liomi: Sorry, no swift kick, but he has been exiled from Mirkwood. Close enough?

Lindaleriel: I can completely understand—I realize the first chapters were a bit bland, but I didn't want to dive right into everything at once. Unlike my other female characters(and several of the male ones too), I have _never_ felt the urge to wring her neck. I think it's because I'm writing from her view, which almost makes her into me… or me into her? Either way, if I start thinking like that, something would be seriously screwed up. 

Michelle: Um… not quite the happily-ever-after bit you were hoping for. 

Farflung: Okay, the 'someone' was Wind, when s/he came across him 'plotting' against the king. Alyeni/Wind had already ran away at that point, and in fact a few days had passed since then. So, Leaf was fading when Wind attacked him, which could very well explain how s/he was able to get the sword away from Leaf—whom I think everyone considers a fairly adept warrior… which could be why he was somewhat ashamed of being disarmed. Do you know any of the studies for that female vrs male stuff? It would make an interesting read, I think. Better than the GABA receptor stuff I'm reading for class right now… er… sure I'm reading it now ;). Yeah, I kind of liked watching Joy snap. _So_ unlike his nick-name, or his usual role. I actually started writing this story from their first day together in the wood, so I may have to find somewhere to shove that back in later. I know, the dualism is annoying to type, but it works fairly well in the mind… or at least in mine. Maybe I'm just weird. As for knuckling under… she appears to the world as male, but both she and her father know she's female. Maybe it's a bit old-fashioned and out of normal views of whatever time the war of the rings is generally considered set in, but I kind of see it (at least for this story) as a time when the male of the house has a protective/possessive role towards the females. Her father is willing to use her sex to force her to do what he wants, using the control her being female gives him over her. The outside world, unknowing of the truth, would see him as a bit over protective, and Tyran as a bit shy/subdued? I can't think up the right word at the moment. Submissive perhaps? Well, anyway, she has been so controlled by him for so long, with the threat of more pain she simply buckled to his command, though she didn't like it. I'm pretty sure she wouldn't have ever done anything to get away from him, or at least not so quickly and drastically, if it weren't for Leaf's predicament. Okay, showing my age here… what is squeeing? About reviews… yeah, I'm paranoid. I know not everyone reviews, but when no one does it seems like _no one_ is reading, and if that's so, I'd rather not waste the space. But truly, this story _has_ been getting the best reviews of all my stories. Wow. Long response. Of course, it was a long review. :)

Iluvien: Okay, foot down, father thrown out, but Leaf's not exactly sweeping her off her feet. After all, I think he has a right to be a wee bit miffed right now. 

Lady Jade: 'A swift kick somewhere unpleasant on a cold, dark night in an alley somewhere'? The image made me laugh, and wonder who could do it. Leaf? Joy? How about Tara? LOL. But of course, Wind/Alyeni couldn't just run to Leaf, because she's still sort of denying what she feels about him, and is at least intelligent enough to know that he would _eventually_ figure out who she is/was. If he didn't, the guilt would probably eat her alive for deceiving him. 

Amused: I only take offense to really bad flames. I haven't got any yet. So who knows, maybe not even then. Alright, one thing I admit to apparently not portraying very well is the timeline. I usually include a line or two when I think it's necessary, but I guess it's too subtle. The festival was a month long, and Alyeni ran from Leaf only a few days before it ended. So, she basically spent a month solely in his company, though occasionally they both had to be elsewhere (as their 'alter-egos') for a while. Reading about things on a day to day basis can be even more tedious than writing it would be, so I skipped forward a bit to the point where she runs away. In elven lives, a month could be considered extremely short, I realize, but Leaf found himself knowing her so well even after their first meeting… well, who can speak for the heart? Eh, besides, Arwen fell in love with Aragorn in one night. Okay, sorry, movie moment came over me there. Just looked it up, and apparently Aragorn fell in love with _her_ in one night, and she didn't fall in love with him until their _second_ meeting some twenty-odd years later. Still, two meetings. Leaf and Alyeni had more than that. As for not noticing the similarity… he has… he just never would have ever _dreamed_ that his long-time _male_ friend could be his newly-met _female interest._ So, they've both got a nice case of denial. Isn't that lovely? 


	16. Wind's birth

I've made my excuses elsewhere… if you're interested, go look. 

Review response: I respond to questions or comments that need a response from me. If they don't need a response, I generally won't respond. Please do not be offended. It has nothing to do with the method of responding to my work… though I usually just reply to e-mails unless their questions are general points I think may help other readers.

LadyJadePerendhil: No! Not the music! Argh! Well, as for Leaf being upset… he only had a few minutes there, and don't you think you'd be just a wea bit shocked if your best friend just turned out to not only be a different sex but the elf you were pining for? Of course, finding out your best friend was an elf would be something of a shock, wouldn't it? ; ) And as for what he would have done… Maybe I'll put that in later somewhere. An elven spaday? Could you explain that one? I fully agree about the last bit… but you have to give them both some time. They've both got some issues, after all. 

Kalythianna: My only excuse for the jump is that's how it happened in my head. She wouldn't have gone if it was merely her wish to be free, but since it threatened Leaf's well being, she had no choice. Thanks for the rest, too. ^ o ^

Iluvien: No doubt it would be weird. After all, it's a psychological _need_ to classify people. To have that basic classification so upset would trouble him for a while. (That's why it bothers most people so much to see someone on the street and be unsure if it is a male or female. If that classification could be made, they wouldn't even think twice about it.)

Kendria Erleine: No, sorry. I appreciate all reviews, though. As for the ending… wait and see. Though you can relax a bit about the fading. Honest… At least for now.

Amused: The denial that Wind is Alyeni doesn't exist, at least in my mind. Apparently some reviewers were a little uncertain about that part. But how long they can try to ignore the truth… that's debatable. 

Farflung: Congrats on the diet! I went on an impromptu crash one—got sick and couldn't eat anything but fruits, veggies, and rice for a month and a half. Clothes shopping sucks. In a good way, of course. Well, glad to know my idiot elf of her father isn't totally unelf-like. I've been accused of that before… Actually, she and Leaf are around two thousand plus years. Spent a millennia in the wood, spent another on their own & working before running into each other. Kind of makes you wonder what rock they were hiding under that they never ran into each other… but who knows. Maybe Leaf had a royal guard until he was suitably able to defend himself. He wouldn't look for his friends with something so obvious as a guard following him around, glaring at his friends. Yeah, I don't know about the guys going for her. Right now she is so uncomfortable (understandably), and they don't know how to treat the he/she-elf they've just found out she is. I have to read the Sil sometime…. Eventually. She is sure how they are looking at her… but keep in mind the story is from her perspective, so if she thinks something, that's how it's got to appear. Personally, I think the looks are _mostly_ for her dad, though her revelation was no doubt a bit shocking as well. Great mental image of Leaf there. I love getting reviews that make me laugh… even if I get odd looks in the computer lab for it.  Yeah, she's a runner. It's bound to get her in trouble sometime. I've heard about Joyce Brothers before… is she an actual psychologist, or just a persona? I haven't looked on psych-link yet. We should have a ton here, I just have to look them up. Glad you liked the chapter. I was accused of being a bit melodramatic.

Queenieb: Yeah, now that his eyes are open, they opened wide. He knows Wind is Tyran is Alyeni. Boy, that sounds funny. 

Trapped in Icy Flame: I have no way to get online through the summer. The library requires access codes which require updated cards, and mine isn't because the library is so useless. It takes weeks to get the card, then longer to get the access, and by then I'd be back at school. When I'm visiting my family I do have access, but usually I'd rather spend it with family. I think this story will be done by then (mid-June, after all). All is not good… at least not yet. 

Tigerlily: Leaf knows Wind is Alyeni. He sees his best friend is female, and takes a good look at her… wait, she looks familiar! DOH! Actually, I like Farflung's mental image: hitting his head against a very hard wall and saying stupid, stupid, stupid. Wow. Typing stupid three times twists your fingers. Okay…

On to the chapter! (Yeah, I cheated and edited one I had as story background, then added an ending. Oh, well. More next week!)

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

_Dangling my feet off the edge of the small flet my father had built for Lyran, I sniffled and lifted my fist to wipe at my eyes as my ears picked up the sound of someone coming._

_"Get down here, child."_

_Swallowing hard, I pulled my feet up and under me, swiveled around—getting my tunic snagged in the process—and got up, heading to the ladder before descending in a rather sluggish manner. _

_My father looked down, his lips tightening as he saw the evidence of tears on my cheeks. "Pull yourself together. You're going into the woods today, to play with the other young lads."_

_"But, Father—"_

_"No buts. No son of mine is going to spend his time in the village with the she-elves, spreading rumors and sewing, learning to cook."_

_"But, Father—"_

_"I don't want to hear anything else. Taradriel will have your lunch." _

_I started to open my mouth to protest, but he narrowed his eyes, giving me that disapproving look I couldn't stand. Especially now. I sniffled once more, rubbed at my eyes with my sleeve, and nodded. "Yes, Father."_

_"That's a good boy. You'd best be running along, or you'll be left alone."_

_I ran to Taradriel's flet, and found her at work over the stove. "Tara, Father says—"_

_"I know, child." She turned and handed me a leaf-wrapped package. "You'd best take some water, too." _

_"But, Tara—"_

_"You heard him."_

_"But, Tara—"_

_"There's nothing I can say, young one. You'd best be off, or the others will leave you behind."_

_"They can't leave me behind since they don't know I'm comin'."_

_"Coming… oh well.__ I suppose there's time enough for that later."_

_I grinned. "Ya sure?"_

_"Now," she scolded. "Off you go, dear elf."_

_"Yes, Tara." I stood on tiptoes and kissed her cheek as she remained bent to my approximate height. Then I gave a mental shrug and raced down the ladder, running as quickly as I could to the place where all the young boys gathered to head out in small gangs to spend time in the wood. There weren't as many as in past years, I had heard Taradriel comment, but there were still enough that they were organized by approximate age boundaries, with occasional crossovers when one lad had a younger brother heading out into the woods. _

_I was too late. They were all organized already, long since gone. _

_I hesitated, considering heading back. _

_But then I thought about what Lyran would have done, biting my lip at the pain thinking of my older brother now brought. I shoved it down, holding in my tears, avoiding a sniffle as I decided to head to the river. After all, Father insisted I be in the wood, so in the wood I would be. He had never said I had to be with the other elves, and I wasn't feeling much like it today, anyway. _

_After all, yesterday had been the worst day of my life. _

_Not wanting to dwell on what had happened, I turned my hesitant steps into a run, and raced to the edge of the river, throwing myself down on the bank in what grass there was under the thick bushes. I let out a deep breath and reached out, trailing my fingers in the cold water. _

_Okay, getting very bored.__ Bored, bored, bored, bored, bor—_

_THWACK!_

_My eyes widened on the shaft of the arrow sticking out of the ground by my wrist, frozen in place long enough my brain caught up with what I was seeing. Yellow and green feathers stood proudly a little more than a foot from the buried tip. _

_Gathering my wits, I sat up, pulled the arrow loose and cleaned the dirt from it. As I had expected, there was no metal at the end, the wood sharpened crudely, probably by the boy who claimed it. I got up, holding the arrow above the feathers with two fingers, letting it dangle as I brushed myself off. Then I threw the arrow as hard as I could—which wasn't too bad, thanks to Lyran's instruction—into the biggest tree that had been right behind me while I had been laying on the grass._

_Even before the arrow hit anything—or didn't—action in the branches assured me I was right about the tree being the one the archer was in. Two elves tumbled out, then a third fell, clutching the arrow in one hand, the tip a few inches from his neck. In scattered succession five more jumped down, laughing at their fallen comrades. _

_"Nice shot." The one holding the bow stopped laughing long enough to slide an appraising glance over me, his head cocked to the side._

_"I could say the same."_

_With a crooked grin he pulled the bow taunt and aimed it at me, before he let the string snap. "Thanks."_

_"Hey, Leaf! I've told you time and again not to snap your bow like that. It's bad for it."_

_"Yeah, yeah," the archer called back, rolling his eyes. The other elves had picked themselves up and dusted off by then, and watched in general silence as the older group of boys went past. "So, what's your name?" he asked, turning back to me when the others had melted soundlessly into the woods once more._

_I blinked and looked up at him, and paused with my mouth open, unsure what to say._

_"Hold on, hold on!" The one who had caught the arrow held up his hands, shaking his head. _

_"My arrow!"__ The elf beside me jumped up, trying to grab the arrow from the tallest lad, who held it out of the way. I watched as 'Leaf' kept after it, half listening to the one who had early on surrendered the arrow._

_"No one out here uses their given names. We come up with—or are given—different names." He tilted his head at the still arguing elves. "That's Leaf and Twig—no relation."_

_"Funny," Leaf paused long enough to glare before jumping again after his arrow._

_"The two shorter ones—" they looked sheepishly at me, hanging their heads—"are Trip and Fall, brothers."_

_I had to grin, which made Fall scuff his boot against the ground. They were the ones who had fallen out of the tree. _

_"Those three," he tilted his head, "are Smudge—he's always dirty, Goat—you'll see why when we head to the mountains, and Hare, because he twitches his ears. I'm Joy… No comment."_

_I laughed softly and jumped at the same time as Leaf did, grabbing the arrow when Twig held it behind his head to keep it from Leaf. I tossed it to Leaf, who held it up with a grin, sticking his tongue out at the irritated Twig. _

_"So… what about you?"___

_"What about me?"_

_"What should we call you?"_

_I blinked, then shrugged. "I don't know."_

_Leaf slid his arrow into a cylinder which was tied to the outside of his thigh. Three other arrows stuck their feathers out of the top. He cocked his head at me, and was about to say something when Twig spoke up._

_"How about crybaby?__ You were ready to cry when there was no one here."_

_I bristled at the accusation. "I was crying before I came. I tried to convince my father to let me stay home today."_

_"See. Crybaby."_

_I shot my leg out, knocking his feet out from under him, sending him unceremoniously to the ground. "My older brother and my mother were buried yesterday."_

_Twig's eyes widened. He blinked, and rolled to the side, getting to his feet. He rubbed at the back of his neck. "Sorry," he muttered after a moment. "Um… how?"_

_"Orcs," I snapped, turning away. I crossed my arms over my chest and squeezed my eyes shut, forcing the tears back again. _

_A hand rested on my shoulder for an instant, before my hair was tousled. I looked up between the mussed gold strands, to see Joy's head tilted. He offered a smile. "You run a lot?"_

_I lowered my eyes, then closed them and nodded. "Whenever I can."_

_"How about a race?"___

_The competitive spark that resides in everyone who isn't half dead—as Taradriel often said, usually when she spent the day baking a single pie for a competition—rose up in me, curving my lips in a small smile._

_Joy's smile became a true one. "All right," he declared, placing himself at my side. "First one to that rock wins." The rock in question was beyond the wood, rising above the new meadow grass. "Hey," he groused, looking at the others. "Line up already!"_

_Trip and Fall sent him dubious looks, but lined up on my left, the others getting in line with slightly more eager looks. "Joy?" I asked softly._

_"Hmm?" he asked, watching to be sure Twig was getting into the right place. _

_"Who should I watch for?"_

_He laughed softly, his eyes sparkling. "No one here is a dwarf, but you'll need to keep an eye on Goat and Leaf. Trip, too, as long as he doesn't." He looked around once more, and nodded his head. He settled down, poised. "Go!"_

_I could hear nine feet falling at that instant, heard the wind rise around my ears as I ran as hard as I could, ran to outrun the thoughts. The eight pairs not my own dwindled before we left the wood to three, which was followed by an "oof!" as the three became two. My guess is Trip tripped. I stretched my legs a bit farther, sped my feet. The rock loomed ahead just as I felt the beginning complaints of my lungs, wishing more air than I was able to give them, but I ignored them, taking a large leap which put me on the side of the boulder. A quick scramble and I was at the top, a moment before Goat leapt casually up, his feet finding holds on the rock I couldn't even see. A little after that Leaf joined us, and slowly the others gathered around the base. _

_"You run well," Goat murmured._

_"Like the wind," Leaf agreed with a half-smile. Suddenly he laughed brightly. "You should have seen us trying to keep up with you through the trees."_

_"Wind," Joy mused. "Well guys?"_

_"Sounds like a fitting one," Twig muttered. He gave me a quick half-smile and a nod. _

_"Welcome to the group," Leaf said with a crooked grin, holding his hand out. _

_I tilted my head at him, lifting a brow. _

_He laughed again, dropping his hand._

My eyes cleared, taking in the shape of my room. I groaned softly and swung around so my feet were on the floor of my flet. Ever since the day I was given my freedom from Father, my mind had been on an endless loop of memories every time I tried to simply rest, each one showing me either my father's cruelty or Leaf's generally bright eyes. At least I hadn't had to dream that betrayed look in his eyes again. 

I saw it enough when I was awake, though I hadn't seen or heard from him since I walked out of his father's hall. 


	17. Fuzzy concentration

Hey everyone! I'm back, with a new _real_ chapter. Reactions and a slight hint towards reconciliation, though there is still a bit to be done. (And a lot before the end).

Farflung: Well, this may not be quite what you had in mind, but it's what was in mine. Guess I was a bit frazzled… so she was too. Yeah, Leaf's crooked grin. Can't you just picture this little elf running around with that smile? It would melt any annoyance he created. I have yet to look things up, but things promise to be hectic again soon, so I'm trying to get work done while I have a moment. 

LadyJadePerendhil: How could Alyeni and Joy go together to a spa, if it's a no (insert gender here) event? Um… Okay, I don't know what significant event you're referring to. Did I hint at one somewhere? Your comment threw me, so I searched back, but couldn't find one… but I have been known to miss things/forget them before, so if you could find it and let me know, I'd appreciate it. I hate reading to the end to get an answer for one question only to have it not answered (and I'm guilty of that in my first fic). Just a general thing: all male elves were sent into the woods to play/learn to hunt/interact until they were around a thousand years old, and they banded into groups of approximate ages. Alyeni, Leaf, Joy, Twig, (etc), were in a group of nine for their time together. When they came of age, so to speak, they left the woods with a promise not to let their futures get in the way of their friendships, even though they knew it wasn't entirely realistic. Okay, now that I've said all of that, and probably done nothing but confused you, I'm gonna shut up now.

Lindaleriel: You know we're in the computer age if brains need 'rebooting'. And it's not twenty years… but closer to two thousand. 

Concetta & Iluvien: I _know!_ Flashbacks are cheep! But it was use a chapter I already had-from thinking up background to the story-or not give you an update at all. I would say up to you, but I already decided on throwing it in. Like you said, it added depth, and a bit of life to some of the other characters I haven't had time/inclination to develop a bit more.

Unnamed: This chapter should explain all of that. If not, just ask. 

Shimmering Omens: Hi. I said something to everyone else who reviewed… so… hi.Thanks for reading. Yeah, the memories were good, but she wasn't too happy.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Hello?" 

I sighed softly. "Up here, Joy," I murmured, hearing him move to the window. A few minutes later he was sitting beside me on my flet's roof, looking out at the forest. 

"He's no longer fading."

I nodded. "Good."

Joy frowned at his hands, took a breath, released it, and drew a new one to try again while I remained still, not really noticing what my eyes were seeing. "I haven't seen you at Haradan's."

"If you've been there, you would know he has a new apprentice. At least he was kind enough to say I had learned all I could from him and should open my own shop when he released me from my work." 

Joy sighed, frowning worriedly. "I suppose that explains the armory in your flet."

I laughed without humor. "I suppose so." 

"What should I call you now? Wind? Tyran? Alyeni?"

I shrugged with a sigh. "It doesn't matter anymore." It didn't seem like anything did. 

"How long have you been up here?" he asked a few minutes later.

"I don't know."

"Guess."

I glanced up at the sky, but only because of his tone. He sounded horribly intent upon my answer. It was early morning… and I had come up in early evening. Had a day passed? What of two? "I don't know. What day is this?"

Joy let out a sharp expletive, and shook his head. "Did you at least bring food up with you?" he asked, seeming oddly upset. 

"I'm not hungry," I answered quietly. I wasn't. Hungry, angry, or even upset. Just tired. So weary, exhausted with this unending loop of empty days. 

"Come on," Joy muttered, getting to his feet. "You need to do something other than sit here."

"Why?" I asked softly. "There's no reason to."

Joy shook his head at me again and lifted me into his arms, maneuvering carefully down the large tree branch and into the window. He laid me down on my bed, sighing as I watched him. "Don't you want to sketch something? Craft something? Eat, for crying out loud?"

"No."

He looked as if I'd struck him. "Wind," he started, his voice rough.

"What? I'm fine, Joy." A small smile seemed almost too much effort. "Don't worry about me."

He looked on the edge of tears. "I'll be back tonight. Try to find the strength to eat something so you don't have to suffer my cooking."

I watched him leave, not understanding why he was so concerned. So I was being a bit lazy. I had nothing to do… and with his busy job, no one to do anything with. That didn't mean there was anything wrong…

My fuzzy thoughts came together into coherence when I heard someone approaching my flet. 

"No, Tara." It was Leaf, sounding angry and unyielding, oddly so, in fact, for him. 

"You must, Leaf. Just go up and look at her. See if you really hate her for not being able to tell you, or if you're just angry." 

"I can't. And I won't."

"Leaf," Tara started in her best motherly scolding tones, before she was interrupted.

"Do you know who I am, Taradriel?" Leaf asked sharply. Apparently he showed her some sign of his rank, for she spoke again.

"So you're a lousy excuse for a prince instead of merely a lousy excuse for an elf—one who called her a friend."

"Tara," he growled low in his throat.

"She didn't have a choice, Leaf," Joy murmured quietly. "You know what her father was like."

"How can you be so calm?" Leaf exploded. "He-she lied to us from the first day, Joy."

"No she didn't. She just didn't correct us. How could she?"

I could picture him fuming, so angry he couldn't speak, for utter silence reigned for a full minute. "I can't see her now, Joy. I'd be likely to strangle her."

"I don't think she'd stop you, Leaf," Joy murmured softly. "Go."

After a long moment, there was a muttered oath before the slight creak of the ladder letting someone climb up. With a sigh Leaf came into view, glancing at the empty chairs by my small table before glancing at my little used sink and stove. Frowning, he turned farther, finally seeing me. "Hello," he muttered, crossing his arms over his chest. 

"Hi," I managed after a moment, blinking slowly. "You look well." He did. The weight he'd lost was nearly back, only small hollows at his cheeks showing he had been near death not too long ago. 

"You aren't even going to bother sitting up?"

I blinked at him, frowning faintly. "Aren't I?" I asked. With a slight turn of my head I saw the floor on my right, the ceiling on my left. "Guess not." I pushed up against the thin mattress, but only made it a few inches before an alarming weakness overwhelmed me, drawing me back down. "You shall have to forgive the impudence of it, Prince Legolas, but I seem incapable of sitting up." 

With a low curse he crossed the room, jerking me rather roughly upright. I sagged in his grip, still unable to find the strength I usually had. Leaf's hold tightened for a moment, then loosened. I fell back to the bed against my own volition, closing my eyes for an instant as I wondered for an instant why I was so weakened. "Look at me." 

I got my eyes open after a struggle and looked up at him. "What?"

A severe frown drew his brows together as he slid one hand under my head, his arm sliding under my legs. With surprising ease he lifted me for a moment, then set me back down. He left the side of the bed and found my lamp, lighting it quickly. When he returned he set the lamp on the floor, the light bright compared to the previous near dark of my flet. After one look at me, he paled. "Tara!" He shot to his feet, yelling first out the window, then out of the door. "Joy!"

"What is it?" I asked softly, trying to sit up again. "Leaf—"

"Don't bother," he snapped, running his hand over the back of his neck. "Have you anything to eat?"

"I doubt it."

His eyes closed for a minute, and then he left. My thoughts were drifting out of existence again when I was brought back to my flet by being shook. "Wind!"

"What?!?" 

He let out a tense breath and shook his head. "Drink this." A cup was placed against my lips after he propped me up. I started to protest, but he shifted before I could form words, turning me so I was leaning against him, and his arms were free. One hand held the cup to my lips, the other pried my jaw open. When he began tilting the cup I had no choice but to swallow or drown. 

The warm liquid splashed around in my stomach for a time, settling comfortably after a time. The heat of it alone gave me strength enough to push away from him, though his assistance was allowed—as if I had a choice—in getting settled against the cooled sheets. "Why so pushy?"

"You haven't eaten recently, have you?"

"No."

"There's your answer."

I blinked, trying to keep him in focus. "Why is everyone suddenly so concerned with my eating habits? First Tara, then Joy, now you… and you hate me." I closed my eyes, unwilling to see the agreement I expected in his eyes. 

I heard a sigh and then felt fingers in my hair, smoothing it back from where it tried to stick to my neck. "Dear elf, I could never hate you," he murmured quietly. "Find pleasant memories as you dream. I'll be here when you wake."

"Why?"

"Because… you are my friend. Always." I could hear him moving, and the hand slipped from my hair before warmth settled around me, tucked in before he moved back from the bed. "Rest well." 


	18. Going to lose you

A new update, but fairly short responses—It's like five minutes from when I have to get to class, so I only have that long… yeah. Had a problem with the html upload last chapter, so I'm trying it again slightly different to see if the points of ellipses will show up this way this time. If so, I'll go back. (In other words, thanks for the head's up unnamed—I hadn't noticed it didn't work, but I know it should have been there.) Yes, Alyeni is fading, and yes, Leaf is there to help. She didn't eat because she didn't care… and anything more specific will have to come in the next chapter. Bye!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Are you sure you won't accept some help?" It was Tara, sounding worried like the mother hen she was.

"If you will take this—" I didn't open my eyes to see what 'this' Leaf was talking about "—to my father and tell him I shall be taking care of a friend for a while, it will be of help."

"But… But what about the cleaning? The cooking? She can be rather curt and snappish."

A small snort accompanied that statement. "Believe me, I know. As for the cleaning—do not think I rely on the hall servants for everything… though I am a fairly poor cook. However, I am sure I can manage. You may bring us supplies from time to time, but I do not want you hovering. If I know Wind at all, it will not help." 

My eyes slit open to see Tara wringing her hands. "Oh… Well, you're probably right… it's just, I've known her longer than you—"

"Only by a few years. Of course, knowing the truth you had a slight advantage."

"No," she shook her head. "I know her as a mother would. Your knowledge is different."

Leaf looked at her for a moment, and then nodded. "If you would please inform my father soon? He was not anticipating my absence, and will be worrying."

Tara left soon after, casting disparaging glances around my messy flet. 

"Feeling any stronger?" Leaf asked without turning. 

"It must be nice," I murmured softly as he came over with another steaming cup. Again he supported me and held the cup so I had no choice but to drink. 

"What must be nice?" he asked when the cup was empty. He set it aside and brought one hand up to my hair, stroking through it. 

"Having a father who worries."

He bowed his head slightly and sighed, the warm breath stirring the hairs on my neck. "You've missed out on a lot, haven't you?"

"As which elf? Alyeni, the she-elf who only existed for a few years and then mere moments? Who never learned everything a she-elf is supposed to? Lost her mother too young? Tyran, the smith who is no longer allowed a shop? Whose acquaintances from the past centuries through work and leisure now cross the village path to avoid his eyes? Wind, who only knows of three people now to call true friends, one who is as a mother, one who feels betrayed, and one who is busy? Or me—having nothing to care about any longer?"

He sighed heavily. "I did feel betrayed," he admitted, "and I was furious. But now I'm not."

"Why not?"

"You need me more than I need to be angry and upset."

"I don't—"

He shook his head with another sigh. "You've nearly faded away, my friend. Or had you managed to convince yourself that such weakness is normal?"

"It doesn't matter. I've no reason to—"

"Don't even say it!" He snapped, turning me so he could look at me while shifting so I was resting against his knee and his arm. "You have a reason to live."

"What?" I asked, not seeing anything.

"It's right in front of you," he murmured softly, his eyes dark and sad as the fingers of his free hand trailed down my cheek. 

"I can't be fading so quick as all that," I protested, some spark of fight flaring within me again.

"Why not?" he asked, managing a small smile which quickly faded away.

"Because you seemed to truly care about Alyeni, and you didn't fade away in three times the time I've had."

"Your day tally is erroneous. But you're correct—you are closer to death than I was. Of course, I had Father, and Joy, and Wind, and a few other fairly friendly acquaintances at the halls, along with a somewhat important duty to the people of this Wood… while you have Tara and Joy, both of whom are busy with other things, and you have nothing to do."

"I know."

He sighed. "You have to live, Wind."

"Why?"

"Because I'm not going to watch you die like I did my mother."

That got through the rather pleasant fuzz that had permeated my thoughts. "What?"

He snorted with a bit of bitter laughter. "Not every bit of the royal lives is known to the public, after all. My mother desperately wanted a little girl, especially when I was nearly of age. Because of difficulties in birthing before, my father was hesitant… but his love for her was so great he could not see her suffering so for lacking something she so desired. She was soon pregnant… but lost the child, and was told she could never conceive again. Every day we came back from the wood she was a bit farther gone… and I could do nothing." A muscle in his jaw twitched, his eyes darker when he looked at me. "I'm not going to lose you the same way."

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	19. Imagine for one moment

Okay! I'm here again. Lots of stuff to do this week, and next, but I think the updates won't be slowed, since this is how I relax, and everyone has to take some time to relax or they have mental breakdowns. Or at least major stress attacks. Don't want either. 

I guess it was the net that was having problems with the points of ellipses, so I've gone back (again) and reuploaded all the messed up chapters, from my original, so things should look right as soon as you can see this chapter. 

Reviews from last two chapters (put together, confusing, I know):

LadyJadePerendhil: I guess you could think of it as blood brothers. Best friends, whatever. And don't worry about Leaf being a softy. He's still a warrior, even when taking care of a fading friend (more?). Besides, he's been interacting with her for so long as a guy… I can't imagine him suddenly being gentle all the time, even realizing she is female after all. Thanks for the shameless advertisement. Of course, how many people check other reviews, save the author? Thanks, though. 

Concetta: Thank you, here you go! And I did make it to class, barely. I got done with my exam faster than expected, so this is up a bit sooner than I planned.

Unnamed: Thank you again for pointing that out. It was such a duh moment for me… and I found some other places in other things, so those have been corrected as well. Maybe I should get a beta reader for myself… or just leave them alone more than a day so maybe I'll catch my own mistakes. Oh well. Thanks, and keep it coming. I get quite annoyed by sloppy writing, so I'm glad to fix my own.

Farflung: This is going to be a bit of a long response. First, for chapter 17: I think the elves would fade quickly because if they're going to fade at all, they do so because they've either become tired of life (which after a few thousand years is somewhat understandable) or have nothing left to live for that they feel is worth it. Fading does make sense, and even happens in humans. (Although for humans, apparently even having a pet is reason enough to live). What's a romance without angst? Pure fluff… and somewhat boring, in my opinion. Her friends are somewhat busy, but I think Taradriel would be avoiding her at first because she knows her temper too well not to, and it would be hard to face someone who was dying because you pushed them to do something. Okay, now for chapter 18: You know, everything I've read has different ideas on what happened to the Queen. Somehow this worked for this story, though I'm nicer to her in other stories. I think at this point Leaf still remembers her as Alyeni, while she's more consumed with having it known she's female, rather than really thinking about what recently happened between them. Poor Leaf. One last comment: I like responding to reviews, as long as there is something to respond to. The only real response for 'write more' is to update. ; ) 

Kelsey: She was afraid of the same thing, but between Joy and Tara, he didn't have the chance to avoid her. She didn't eat because she simply didn't remember to eat. There was no point, and it didn't occur to her. I don't know if they can starve. You wouldn't think so, because they're immortal, but if they can't, why bother to eat and make waybread? Joy is an original character, from Mirkwood, most likely a wood-elf, but I don't know his real name. 

Calnore: Her father is gone, from the story at least. He's out of Mirkwood, though perhaps not in the West just yet. 

Shimmering Omens: I always smile when I read your reviews. A bit of humor in the school day is so nice. 

Iluvien: Not furious, though a bit annoyed yet. They've got a lot to work out before they can even consider getting together

_And on to the chapter…___

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

After that we didn't speak much. He was as stubborn as I could be on a good day, when he was at full tilt. So, I gave in, and let him prop me up, pouring things down my throat until I had strength enough to feed myself. Tara dropped by fairly often through the days, but Leaf wouldn't allow her up, taking messages or bringing food up through my supply basket. 

I had regained enough strength that I was sitting by the window, staring out, enjoying the slight breeze that filtered through to brush my hair back. 

"Why did you do it?"

I blinked and turned, opening my eyes to see his were closed, his arms crossed over his chest, his ankles crossed and resting against the table. "What?"

"Why did you do it that way?"

"Do what which way?"

He sighed, setting his feet on the floor, his eyes opening to stare at the wall. "Why did you reveal the truth so publicly?"

With a frown I thought back, but shook my head. "I still see no other option."

He rolled his eyes and shook his head. "You would never make it in the politics of running things," he muttered.

"I never intended to," I countered quietly, turning to get the breeze on my face again. 

However, it seemed it wasn't the end of the subject for him. "Why didn't you… I don't know. Why not come to see me? As my friend you would have been allowed to my room with but a word from me."

"And then what?" I asked, looking at him over my shoulder. "Haul you around and kiss you?" I snorted and shook my head. 

"Why not?"

I stared at him, wondering if he had gone utterly nuts sitting around my flet with nothing much to do. "Hello. Mirkwood to Leaf! You would have hardly allowed Tyran to kiss you."

"I hadn't the strength or energy to protest too quickly, and by the time I could have I would have recognized you."

"And then the guards would have me hauled away."

"I would have stopped them."

I ignored his statement, continuing with my own thought. "And as your male lover, I would have been brought before the King and then summarily executed or imprisoned."

Leaf sighed softly and stared at the table. "Perhaps not, even if I couldn't explain it to him. It would have been the first spark of life I'd shown in a while, either way." He gave me a searching look and shook his head slightly. "Once he heard your story your father would have been removed from guardianship and perhaps even the wood as he now is, and the entire wood wouldn't know the truth."

"If it had happened as you think," I countered softly.

"You see a flaw in my thinking?"

"What of your anger? Your feeling of betrayal?"

His jaw went tight, but he slowly shook his head while glaring at my poor table. "I would not have felt it."

"You felt it at the hearing."

"I had a few minutes then. I wouldn't have had the time if you had just come to me." He looked at me again, an accusation deep in his eyes. "You didn't trust me enough for that, did you?"

That was too much. My body might yet be weak, but the hazy blankness of my mind had lifted enough, even if I couldn't get my tongue as acidic as I would like. I turned slowly to face him properly, and crossed my arms over my chest. "I trusted you to be and do exactly what you did—to feel angry and betrayed, and then to avoid me. I thought it would be a few centuries if you ever spoke to me again."

"You are my friend," he countered roughly.

"And that counted for a lot until you found I was on the edge of fading, didn't it?"

Anger flashed in his eyes until he lowered them, glaring at the table again. "I have always known you were my friend. It was just hard to come to terms with Wind being Alyeni. Surely you can understand why?" he asked sarcastically.

"If I am to look from your view, perhaps you could look from mine?"

"In what way?" he growled.

"I had not been as a she-elf for over two thousand years when you found me in the garden at the—at your birthday celebration. You were looking for me, though you didn't know it. I tried to escape you, feeling you would surely see through the gown to the one you had known for so long… but you never did. You chalked everything up to me being different, and you wouldn't listen when I damned well told you I couldn't, didn't want to, and would leave."

"You _did_ want to!" he roared, slamming his fist against the table. 

I didn't even jump, but I did look away. "That was what I hid from myself, Leaf. I always knew I was a she-elf, even when in the deepest moment of playing the role of Tyran, but I never let myself feel like it. Can you imagine for one moment what it would be like to be forced to become a member of the opposite sex for your life, only to suddenly be cast back into place where you're instantly snared by the game you'd never thought to play… for reasons that would seem obvious to you now."

His scowl lightened to a frown as I spoke, his eyes widening as he apparently managed to think about it for a moment. His head fell against the back of the chair, and he let out a long breath before lifting it to look at me again. "Was it only the game?" he asked quietly. 

"Are you sure you want to know?" I asked softly, seeing the conflict on his face as he started to open his mouth to deny his question, only to close it again. 

He got to his feet and paced around for a moment, whirling suddenly. "Yes. I have to know… and now is as good a time as any, I suppose."

With a sigh I closed my eyes. "Last chance to back out," I whispered.

"I _have_ to know. Please." 

The final word got to me, making my eyes snap up to see the pleading look in his, though his jaw was tight, his hands clenched into fists. I knew he wished his answer, but I didn't know which way he wanted me to answer. There was only one way I could, though. "I was trapped, Leaf. The game held no interest for me."

Something seemed suddenly dead in his gaze. "It was only because you couldn't escape me that you played?"

How had he gotten _that_ out of what I'd said? "No! I didn't give a damn about the _game_. You were quite insistent… but had I entirely wanted to, I could have either avoided you or gotten you to avoid me."

After a painfully stretched silence, he moved forward, sitting on the edge of the table in front of me. When I looked up at him, he studied me for a time, and then slowly let out a tense breath, pushing away. "Well, we've certainly made a mess of things, haven't we?" he asked softly, before leaving. Unaware what I was doing until I'd done it, I turned to look out the windows one at a time until I saw him walking quickly toward the village, or maybe Tara's flet, or perhaps even the halls in which he had been born.

"Stupid, stupid girl," I sighed, before shaking myself and working on cleaning my flet a bit, tired of tripping over swords which fell from the places Leaf had tried to stack them so they would be out of the way.


	20. Waking nightmares

Yeah, ffnet isn't working at the moment, so if the didn't e-mail me someone's review, I can't respond at the moment. 

Shimmering Omens: I needed that. It's been another one of those weeks.

Kelsey: Yes, Alyeni/Wind/Tyran loves Leaf. It's just going to take them a while.

Unnamed: Yay! I made it a chapter! Wahoo! (Now watch, something will be screwy in this one. Sigh. Oh well.) Since I'm working from one point of view, I've found the body language is a must to help figure out what the other characters are doing/thinking. Glad you like it! In this instance, at least, Leaf is the one with a clue. He understands what happened, knows that he and Alyeni did find themselves in love, but like her he's gotten stuck on Wind being Alyeni. He has to get through having fallen for his best friend, and she just has to get over everyone knowing she's female. He's a bit more focused on them, she's a bit more focused on her. *shrugs* What can ya do?

Farflung: I loved the Pot. Kettle. Black. Part. It was great. I think Leaf's a bit closer to understanding, but he could have a major relapse into macho-elfism. Boy, that sounds weird. Is there such a thing as macho elves?

Iluvien: Sorry, since I know what's coming next (for the most part) I don't see them as tense spots. I think this one might be better, though.

LilAznElfLuver: Did the other chapters work for you? If not, let me know. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Tyran?" a voice I didn't recognize called up the ladder of my flet. 

With a frown, thinking the entire world was uncomfortable with what name to call me, I glanced down. Four guards were there. "Yes?" I asked cautiously, my voice lowering unthinkingly. 

"You are to accompany us to the King."

"To what end?"

"We do not question the King's orders," the guard snapped. "Shall you join us willingly, or shall we climb up and carry you back?"

"Give me a minute," I sighed. I braided my hair and changed in a flash, appearing as Tyran at the door in the minute asked. On the ground with them, they said nothing, two heading off to the halls as the other two were apparently waiting for me to go. My guess was confirmed when they fell in line behind me. 

For whatever reason, the street was deserted as we walked through the village, but I had little cause to consider the possible reason as the hall gates swung open, before slamming shut behind us so decisively they seemed to declare I would never hear them open again. 

I pushed the fanciful thought aside and lifted my chin as we all trooped into the throne room. King Thranduil looked up, glancing over my hidden form for an instant. He motioned for an elf near him to come closer. "Tell the prince he is to come here."

The elf bowed and left, before the guards around me moved back to their places. I crossed my arms tightly over my chest, waiting for whatever was coming. Leaf entered the room, looking a bit downcast. "Father?" he asked softly.

"You have a guest."

Leaf looked up, saw me and frowned for an instant, before glancing at the guards. His eyes paused on my companions, finding them out because they alone wore their cloaks. "Father?"

"Tyran, come forward."

I moved slowly, stopping when I didn't feel any closer was wise. "Yes, Sire?"

"Legolas, you will deal with your guest."

"Yes, Father," he agreed softly, bowing his head slightly before looking at me. "Come." He turned and disappeared through a small door, halfway down the hall before I reached the door. 

After a few quick steps I was beside him, uncertain why. I started to ask what was going on, but he hastened his pace, drawing away in an instant. I rolled my eyes and followed at a slow jog, half aware of the halls we passed, of the decorations lining the walls. 

As we approached wherever I guessed we were heading, Leaf slowed—which was why I guessed we were close to being done wandering the endless halls—and lifted a brow at the guards posted before the door. Without a word they opened the doors for him, and through the heavy stone arch we passed. 

The doors opened to a large room, with several very plush looking places for sitting, a wall filled with books, several plants, a small waterfall which trickled from the roof on one corner and fell along rough rocks until it disappeared from a small pond in the floor, and other such impressive things one wouldn't expect to find in the middle of a cave. "Leaf?"

He glanced back at me, frowned for an instant and then looked around the room. "What?" he asked, sounding confused. 

"Where are we?"

"Oh," he laughed a bit self-consciously, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand. "This room leads to those set aside as royal quarters," he explained. He nodded at the most obvious set of doors. "That is Father's room. Mine is the one to the left of it." 

"What of the others?"

"Should they have had any more children, or should I have married and produced children of my own, the rooms wait." He frowned slightly for a moment, then shook his head and crossed his arms over his chest. "Pick one."

"What?" I asked, sure I had misheard. 

"Pick one to use for your stay."

"Um… who said I was staying?"

"Your King and the Prince," he stated calmly, but the look he sent me warned me clearly that he meant it in all seriousness—if I protested it would be akin to treason. 

"Why?" I figured that was safe enough to ask.

"For the reason I was not allowed to return to your flet," he answered absently.

"Which would be what?"

He turned and stared at me, then shook his head in disbelief. "Do you ever hear what goes on in these woods? Orcs have again been spotted, in greater numbers than before. All elves have been warned not to stray from their homes unarmed… and Father forbid me to leave the halls."

"A bit over—"

"He is my father," he bit out, "and I am his only child. All of his family that remains. Can you truly blame him?"

"Not to mention that should you be killed there would be no heir to the throne."

His head tilted slightly to the side, and he let a small smile touch his lips. "And so the bitterness comes out," he muttered, sounding far from sweet himself. 

"You never hinted to me—either way I've ever appeared."

"Why should I have?" he snapped, his arms uncrossing so he could send one through his hair. "So that I could question if you—either one—were only close to me because of my title as I must do with every other elf I know?"

A sound caught my ears, turning my head before I could think to reply. A guard stuck his head in the door, looking nervously between us. "Is all well, your highness?"

"Indeed," Leaf grumbled. "Fear not for raised voices between us. No harm shall befall my person."

The guard frowned, dubious, but bowed his head and pulled it out of the way before the door was pushed back into place, leaving us with a silence stretching. Leaf scowled for a while, then shook his head and motioned absently at the doors around us, striding quickly to his own. The door nearly slammed behind him.

I sighed, reached up and absently released the braids from my hair, pulling it back at my nape, tying it in place before I considered my options. There were three doors on either side of Thranduil's. Five to choose from. I went to the one farthest on the right, stuck my head in and pulled back in disgust. It had obviously been decorated for a she-elf… and probably a pretty young one at that. The next room was a bit more mature, but once again for a she-elf, as was the one nearest his room. 

After hesitating for a while, I decided it wouldn't hurt to look at what I figured was the male half of the room. My first glance into the far room confirmed it. I felt more comfortable just looking into that room than even the nicest of the she-elf rooms. But it was a bit young for me, so I tried the next one, deciding on it before the door had entirely opened. It was decorated as sparsely as was my flet, but with a rich elegance my flet could never claim. 

The weariness of the day caught up with me, coaxing me to test the bed which stood waiting, the covers smoothed beyond wrinkles until I crawled to the center of the bed and laid down. Sleep unfocused my eyes in an instant, drawing me into dreams rather than waking nightmares. 


	21. It's the wine

A nice little chapter for everyone who likes having updates. More probably by Friday.

Iluvien: She went to the palace dressed entirely as she would have at the beginning of the story. So, she has her under-vest, leggings, tunic, her hair braided in a male fashion…

Farflung: Glad you agree with Alyeni's reaction to all of this. 

Angeline: Thank you, and I fully agree. Lots of mistakes are really irritating. So if you find something that just rubs you wrong, let me know and (if I agree) I'll fix it as soon as I find out. The reason I chose to do it this way is that—while Tolkien's form of English was fine for the story—I find that most attempts by other writers to copy it end up sounding stiff and completely unnatural. They use it too much. And though I may throw in something a little bit old from time to time—and try to never use things that couldn't appear in that time frame—I would rather not try and reach the same balance Tolkien managed, because I don't think I could do it without annoying myself.

Kelsey: Leaf is getting a bit annoyed that he doesn't know where they stand now. Everytime he looks at her he sees their childhood together, when he found her working with Haradan, and his time with her as Alyeni. Since even she doesn't know, they're kind of at a standoff right now.

dd9736: Thank you. I know what you mean about the first chapter thing. If it's really dull/ badly written, I don't usually keep going unless it's one that a cousin/friend asked me to read.

And just so I don't get tons of confused responses, the day has passed, and it's now morning. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I woke when the door closed. I shook my head to help clear it and slowly moved so my feet were on the floor, absently resting my hand on my stomach to soothe it as I stretched. I wandered out to the main room, and found Leaf and another elf there. Leaf was lounging against the door to his room, his arms crossed as he watched the she-elf lay a tray down on the table. 

"Thank you," he murmured softly.

She bowed her head and curtsied. "Anything else, my lord?"

"Nothing."

She curtsied again and turned, looking for all the world like a quivering rabbit. The guards closed the door behind her. 

"What on Middle-Earth was she afraid of?" I asked, coming into the room as the smell of food drew me unthinkingly forward. 

Leaf sighed and handed me a fork and knife as he sat at the table. "Me."

"Why?" I frowned at the idea, even as I speared some of the meat on the tray. 

Leaf had gone for the dessert first. He always did have something of a sweet tooth. "Because I have the power to throw her into the dungeons or exile her if she should misstep."

"You wouldn't," I protested around a mouthful of absolutely delicious food. I closed my eyes to better savor it.

"Good?" Leaf asked in some amusement, lifting a brow at me when I looked back at him. 

"Even Tara can't cook like this," I answered, trying some of the soup. It had been put in a cup—to be drunk instead of spooned. 

"I suppose not," he answered quietly. His own appetite seemed to have vanished as he laid his silverware down, reaching for a goblet of wine instead. In contemplative silence he sipped while I devoured my fill of the food.

"So," I murmured at last, feeling a bit better, "why am I here?"

He shook his head and rolled his eyes with a faintly amused smile. "Can't you figure it out on your own? After all, you at least understand how the male mind works."

"Hmm. I've found that many of the workings of the mind are more a matter of upbringing than gender—I can't figure out for the life of me what Tara's thinking half the time."

He smiled at that, almost sympathetically. "So? Why are you here?"

"It would be easier if you'd just tell me."

"For you, perhaps," he agreed. "But I have to wonder if you are capable of figuring out my motives."

"Your motives? You did not expect me to be in the hall when your father sent for you."

"True," he agreed, taking another swallow of wine. He got to his feet and moved to another table, lifting a decanter, bringing it back to the table with him, pouring himself more wine before topping my untouched goblet off. "But I had asked if I could bring you here."

"Why?"

"That is for you to discover."

"How can I, if you will say nothing?"

"Think aloud. I shall steer you right if you fall astray."

In annoyance I blew out a breath and took up my own goblet, nearly spitting it back out again.

Leaf laughed at my grimace and shook his head slightly, tossing a cloth at me. "I hadn't thought about that," he grinned.

"At least I amuse you," I snapped, setting the wine aside. "And here I thought that stuff was only ever brought out for feasts."

"For general consumption, yes," he agreed absently. "Father has one opened for us every now and again, and we finish off whatever was left over from the feasts—as this was."

I shook my head, feeling already the slight buzz that usually only accompanied drinking large quantities of wine—which I avoided at all costs. The idea of loosing control of myself was not one I relished, which was why I hardly ever had tasted the wine Leaf was drinking steadily with no apparent affect. "It's damned potent stuff," I grumbled, lifting a hand to my head, which was beginning to ache slightly.

Leaf set his goblet down and reached over the tray, lifting my chin. His eyes widened before he blinked, seeing the effect already in my eyes. "Wow. I never would have expected that," he frowned.

"I don't drink the stuff," I reminded him, struggling to keep him in focus. That was becoming harder and harder as the time passed, wine-induced weariness trying to lower my lids even as I struggled against it. 

"But we have spent festival evenings drinking together," he protested, still frowning.

"Yes—normal wine. Even then I never drank as much as you." I shook my head, feeling a bit queasy. He never drank overmuch, of course. Some elves, like the two of us, simply couldn't afford to lose control of themselves. 

"But even so, this shouldn't affect you so strongly or quickly, for as little as you had."

I sighed, shook my head. "I am a wood-elf, Leaf. A female one." I grabbed the table as the room began to sway from the movement of my head. I tried letting my eyes close, but that made the sensation worse. 

When my eyes finally accepted the order my malfunction brain was trying to send, I found the room was moving… or rather, on closer inspection, that I was. Leaf was carrying me. He shouldered open the door to the room I had chosen and set me down on the bed, leaving without a word as I gave in to the numbing wine. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


	22. King, Queen, and learning

All right… the wine was the type that the king would send out for for feasts, wine made especially for the high elves. It's the stuff the guards get drunk on in the hobbit. It's been sitting around, can evaporate, get more potent… she drinks the much less potent stuff… and I wanted to have a bit of fun with her getting drunk. To everyone who wanted a longer chapter…HERE IT IS!!! I can't promise it's totally coherent after the last week of cramming, exams and papers… but, eh… it's longer. 

FarFlung: Well, part of Leaf's motive is his fear that she will start to fade again. Thranduil, being brighter than either of them, knows what would happen to his son—and kingdom—it that happens. Besides, he wants it all to work out for the best. I kind of thinks he likes her. She has spirit, and she's stronger than most to have survived her father for so long. I'm tired now. See you after break!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When I woke my stomach was protesting again. I sighed and got up, curling my lip at the aftertaste of wine in my mouth. I opened the door, glad to see a tray on the table with food for the morning… my smile froze halfway to my lips to see Leaf hunched in a chair, his head hanging into his hands. 

"Leaf?" I asked, wincing when my voice was no more than a breath. I rounded the table to the chair, kneeling before him in an attempt to see his face. Of course, with his hands covering his face, I was unable to see anything but the ring on his hand—one I had never seen before. A quick glance was enough to tell me why. It was a ring only the royalty of Mirkwood could ever wear. 

Not allowing myself a chance to think about that, I reached up and started to pull his hands away, but at the first touch he jumped, his head pulling back to stare at me, already frowning. "You're awake," he murmured softly, the frown fading.

"Yes," I agreed with a frown of my own. "Isn't that fairly obvious?"

He gave me a rueful smile as he got up, brushing past me as he moved to stand before the bookshelf, staring absently at the titles. "I suppose so," he agreed softly.

"Leaf," I hesitated, but found I was unable to let it go. "What was wrong?"

"Wrong?" he asked quietly. I thought he was going to shrug it off, and was prepared to let him, but he whirled around. "Wrong?" he repeated, his eyes flashing. "Every time I look at you I can't tell who I'm looking at—Tyran, Wind, Alyeni? Even should I have that settled for the moment, I don't even know by what name to call you—the one I've known you as longest? The name those not in our group called you for so long? The name you were given at birth?" He sighed, shook his head and turned back to the shelf. "In the same instant I find I don't know you, and that I know you better than I do myself." 

I was barely aware of having gotten up until I was at his side, staring blankly at my hand as it rose of its own account to rest on his shoulder. "I don't know how to help," I finally admitted. "I don't know how to think of myself." 

He turned in such a way my hand stayed in place, his coming up to touch my wrist lightly. "How do you think of me, then?"

I frowned faintly, and then shrugged. "You have long been a dear friend," I murmured softly.

"Is that all?" he asked quietly, his head tilting slightly to the side. "Was I friend to Alyeni as I was to Wind and Tyran?"

I began to pull back, but his hand closed firmly over my wrist, holding me still even as I considered using the force allowed me as Tyran to get released. For some reason I was uncomfortable with doing so, instead turning my head aside to avoid his eyes. "No."

"No?" he murmured, his other hand cupping my chin as he had often done… when I was Alyeni in his eyes. "Then what?" He lifted my head so I had nowhere else to look but at him. 

"Leaf," the protest was more of a sigh than a word, but I could manage nothing else. His spell had been cast again, leaving me just as powerless against it, but with no hope of escaping on my own by thinking about his reaction if he found out the truth. This time, he already knew it. 

His finger stroked down my chin to my throat and back again, before shifting so my captive hand was returned to his shoulder, his hand sliding up my arm to my nape, where he pulled the cord holding my hair back loose, sending the golden mess around my shoulders. "I think that perhaps we have been making this too difficult," he breathed, bending his head ever so slightly, coming even closer.

"How so?" I whispered, aware he was waiting for some response from me. 

"I think we—" 

The doors to the king's room were thrown open, and a disheveled elf appeared. He squinted at us, grunted, and reached for a plate, scooping up some food from the over stocked tray on the table. With a wordless mutter he sat down, scowling at us again.

"What _is_ the matter, Father?" Leaf asked, some laughter in the tone.

"Who can sleep with you two arguing so loudly?" 

I blinked in utter shock. _That_ disheveled, squinting, messy elf was _King Thranduil?_ If his tone—when he actually _spoke_—hadn't been much the same, I would have protested. As it was, there was no royal command in him at that moment. 

"Something fascinating about me, young elf?" he growled, squinting at me.

My jaw had dropped open. I blinked and found myself speaking without thinking—a rather common malady among elves who spent their youth in the wood. "I would never have dreamed any King could ever appear as if he woke in a gutter."

Beside me Leaf snorted and turned, hiding the laughter I had caught lightening his bright eyes. One of Thranduil's brows lifted imperially, and I was reminded for a moment of who he really was—and then he chuckled and I lost sight of that image of an elf. "She's something else, I'll grant you, Legolas."

Leaf laughed aloud, turning with a smile to eye his father. "You must have come in rather late," he murmured, some concern flickering behind his smile. 

"Business, as ever," the elf answered. Then he looked at the tray. "Not eaten yet?"

"No," Leaf agreed, pulling me over to the table. He lifted a brow at me when I remained standing. "Come on," he murmured softly, frowning faintly. "Not getting shy now, are you?"

I blushed, then tilted my head so my hair hide it. 

"Come on," Thranduil murmured, his voice coaxing but not commanding. "I can hear your stomach from here."

I took a deep breath and then the chair closest to Leaf—and farthest from his father. Leaf handed me a plate, sitting back with his own. I picked at my food for a while, as Leaf and Thranduil began discussing something or other that had to do with some elf in the court—probably a noble. As their discussion more or less excluded me, I found myself a bit more comfortable, and able to finish my food. Once I had I laid my plate aside, I tried sitting still for a while, but soon was unable to as the boring conversation continued. 

Getting up as quietly as I could, I began exploring the room I had only glanced at before, testing the water in the pond as I passed, finding it cool and sweet to drink. A painting hung between the doors used by the current royal family, of a she-elf. Something in her eyes caught my attention, made me study her for a while longer than was strictly expected of someone just looking through things. 

I realized what it was, and blinked. She had Leaf's eyes… or he had hers, more likely. Bright and watchful, with a hint of both laughter and pain lurking in their depths. Looking at the rest of her features, I again could see parts of Leaf, but also parts that had been given to him from another source. Her ears were more prominently tipped than the two males sitting behind me, more as mine were—as were the ears of many wood-elves. Her hair was darker, too. I tilted my head and stepped back a bit to look at the rest of her, frowned to see a dagger half-hidden behind a handful of flowers. 

I started to ask Leaf, turning to look at him over my shoulder, but found him in deep conversation with Thranduil… using the language of the elves reserved for special, more ceremonial events. Few elves spoke it anymore… at least in Mirkwood. None who were not related to the halls in some way did at all. I could catch a probable word here and there, since it was related to the common language of elves, but not enough to say I got anything out of their conversation. 

I turned back around, staring bleakly at the painting as they argued. My ears flamed, knowing they must be speaking about me—why else would they speak in a language I would have no way of knowing? 

"Father," Leaf said sharply. His tone made me glance back, which he noticed as he chanced a look at me. His ears flamed as he turned to his father again. "No."

"What I've said is truth—or you would not be so affected." Thranduil shook his head slightly and put his own plate down, getting to his feet with a slight groan. "I suppose I should be getting to the throne room, before they start panicking."

"Yes you should," Leaf agreed, his tone still unyieldingly sure of his own point. Thranduil sent him a glare—one that still held the love I'd seen between them—before moving past me into his room. "She seems to fascinate you," Leaf murmured quietly a moment later.

I jumped—I hadn't heard him approach. I closed my eyes and let out a sigh. "Your mother?"

"Yes," he agreed softly, with something of a frown on his brow and resignation in his eyes. He shook his head and moved away, turning his back on her picture. 

"You blame her, don't you?"

At once he turned to face me, but his eyes slid past me to hers. He turned again. "Yes." When I said nothing, he stared resolutely at me. "Nothing to say?"

"Is there anything?"

"You could say how you dealt with it."

"I never blamed my mother for dying. It wasn't her choice." 

"But weren't you ever angry? Upset that she left?"

"I was often angry," I agreed softly, looking back at the painting. "Every night I went to bed sore because he had struck me for not being a good enough son I wished she was there to remind him I wasn't his son… But I was never mad at her for dying, for leaving. It hurts, even now… but that will always be."

"Always?" he asked, a quiet despair in his voice. 

"Losing someone you love will always hurt," I murmured softly, tightening my arms over my chest.

"I'm rather surprised you admit that," he grumbled. 

I turned in shock, found him staring unseeingly at the stone floor, one hand wrapped around the back of his neck. "Why wouldn't I?" I asked cautiously.

"You tried to keep me away from Alyeni."

I took a deep breath and tried to think. He had loved me? I shook my head, unconsciously answering myself. No, he had loved her… not all of the little twists and turns to the mystery she had presented him. At any rate, it was obvious he no longer cared so deeply about her. I looked up at him, noting a frown. "You survived."

The frown deepened. "If I had never known, I would have faded."

"And now you know. And you're fine." 

"You wouldn't know the difference, would you?" he snapped, storming into his room, slamming the door as Thranduil came out of his. 

He rolled his eyes. "Now what have you two been arguing about?"

I blinked at seeing the King roll his eyes. Then his question sunk in. "I'm not entirely sure… We started talking about her," I nodded at the painting, "and then about losing those you love… and then he was angry with me for not understanding why he isn't happy being well after nearly fading."

"You are Alyeni, are you not?"

I frowned at the painting, then shrugged, half shaking my head. "I was given that name at birth… but I don't really know who I am."

"But you do know he loves you."

"I am his friend," I answered softly. 

He sighed heavily. "Now I know why our elders insisted on raising males and females mostly separate. Otherwise, they think alike—and in this case, it's too alike. Can't you consider things like a she-elf?"

"I have never really—"

"Oh, stop!" He held up a hand, bringing it to his temple. "Just… try not to spend all of your time fighting. You should at least have him show you the palace."

I tilted my head at him in some confusion.

He lifted a brow at me, and then smiled rather kindly. "In these rooms I am simply an elf, father to the elf you call a friend. It is one reason no one else has been invited here," he added absently, rubbing the back of his neck. "Legolas? Coming or staying?"

Leaf's door opened and he leaned out, his shirt half unbuttoned and his hair unbraided. "What? Did you say something, Father?"

Amusement shown in Thranduil's eyes. "I asked if you were coming or staying."

"Oh." Leaf frowned faintly and then stepped back from the door, leaving it open. He pulled his shirt off and cast it to a pile in one corner, taking another from the foot of his bed to put on before running his hands through his hair, smoothing it some. "Is there need for me?"

"Not that I'm aware of," Thranduil murmured softly, leaning against the doorframe. "Would you rather show Alyeni around?"

Leaf paused, frowning slightly as he looked at me. "If Tyran wishes to go," he answered after a moment.

I lifted a brow, and noticed Thranduil had done the same as he backed from the door as Leaf came out, quickly pulling all of his hair to his nape. Thranduil's brow lifted again at this casual attitude. "Going unmarked?"

"If possible," Leaf agreed, a muscle twitching in his jaw. 

"Very well," Thranduil agreed. He bowed his head slightly at his son, which was returned before the King of Mirkwood left the room with his leggings on inside out and backwards. 

"Let him go," Leaf murmured, having caught me about to open my mouth. "He does it on purpose, from time to time."

"Why?"

"Partly to find out which elf is bold enough to tell him in the throne room, but mostly for the amusement." He emerged from his room and glanced at me. "Well?"

"Well what?"

He sighed and shook his head. "Right now I can't deal with figuring out who you are to be to me, so if you would appear as Tyran I would be more comfortable showing you around."

I looked down at myself, and sighed, leaving for my new room. In the closet were clothes of all sizes, even those to fit me. I changed quickly, keeping only the confining vest that I wore beneath my shirt of those things I had been wearing. I pulled all of my hair back as Leaf had his, and then joined him, lifting a brow in a sarcastic 'is this better?'

He nodded once and led me out, showing me quickly around the palace. There were a few libraries, all extremely large, a music room, a room filled with plants of all sorts, a few indoor gardens, the kitchens, the great hall, the throne room, Thranduil's study, the 'war room' where the king and his advisors met with the head captains as needed, the guard rooms, armory, herb store room, healing rooms, multiple caverns filled with food, the servants quarters, the smith shop, laundry room, one filled with she-elves laughing and sewing clothing for the all those who lived in the halls, a carpenter's workshop, an art room, several rooms full of treasures which Leaf passed by with brief mention, a school, and then what we came to stopped me from worrying about remembering where all the previous was, or caring that we would undoubtedly go elsewhere as well. 

We stepped into a little-used area, if the dust on the floor leading to this section of the halls was any indication, and I could hear running water. A small waterfall, like the one in the royal room, trickled its way merrily down to a large pool of water, the depth a deep blue like the sky just before night takes over the sky. Mist rose from the water, promising another joy to this place. 

"Where does the water go?"

"There's a small channel out at the far end. The waterfall itself is as cold as ice, but a spring makes its way to the surface here, making the water warm year round. Combined they keep the pool filled, and bearable to the touch." Leaf was watching the mist with his arms crossed over his chest. 

"Why does no one come here?"

"Few know it exists. My mother kept it to herself for many years, so it is only known to those who have stumbled upon it. Most find the chill of the air and the darkness of the cave enough cause to leave it be." 

I shook my head and crouched by the water's edge, letting my fingers dip into the still pool. The warmth was inviting, reminding me I hadn't bathed in a while. 

Even as I contemplated the water, I heard a snort. "I'll bring you some things in a few minutes, then leave you to enjoy yourself," he murmured softly, shaking his head as he walked out. 

He was going to let me have my bath… and a good swim, as well. I had always enjoyed swimming nearly as much as running, but the small pond that was near enough to my flet was cold all the time, and absolutely frigid in any season not summer. One could stand it for quick dips, but a leisurely swim was out of the question, and reserved for those few places where the rivers were calm enough to allow caution and safety. Of course, those places were always full of merry elves, and I was afraid of being found out. 

I pulled my fingers from the water and rose, yanking the fastenings on my tunic free before discarding the thick cloth, letting my shirt and vest fall with it before stepping free of my remaining clothes. Walking into the water was absolute heaven, the warmth seeping around, rising higher and higher until I was swimming across the pool. 

After swimming around a bit I started towards the place I had left my clothes, planning to wear something when Leaf came, only to find the supplies needed for a bath resting at the pool's edge with a large absorbent cloth. I hadn't heard him come in or leave. 

I winced but shoved the mental image away, taking my time to wash out my hair, to wash myself before swimming the suds away, finding the place the water escaped by loosing the cord I had tied my hair back with to its pull. 

When I had tired of the water I emerged, wrapping myself against the chilly air as I stared at my clothes without understanding for a long moment. My vest was gone. Uneasily I dressed and backtracked the path Leaf had brought me on, finally standing before the guards. They looked at me, one moving to open the door as the other took his time looking me over, frowning faintly at my dripping hair and the way I clutched the supplies Leaf had brought me to my chest like a shield. Eventually he opened the door, and I passed through, finding Leaf lying indolently in a chair, a book dangling from his fingers. 

He looked up at me and frowned, setting the book aside before sitting up properly. "I thought you would be in a better mood after a bath and a swim."

"I was—until I noticed you'd taken my clothes!"

"To be cleaned," he countered with a frown. "They were from the closet up here anyway."

"Not all of them," I snapped, glaring at him.

"What does it matter? They shall be returned." 

I rolled my eyes and threw the things down onto a chair, spreading my arms to plainly show him the problem before crossing my arms over my chest so I wouldn't feel quite so exposed. His eyes widened, a flicker of something coming into his eyes before he got up, going into his room. "Hey!" I protested, expecting the door to slam yet again.

"I was just going to look for a replacement," he muttered, hidden from sight by the open door of his wardrobe. "I never really thought about what steps you had to go to to hide the truth from everyone."

"Well, I'm used to it. I feel naked without my vest," I muttered, before realizing who I was saying it to. If he had never known Alyeni, it wouldn't have been a problem… but he had, and it was. My ears flushed, the color running down my cheeks and probably farther when he stiffened for a moment, thinking along the same lines I was, no doubt. 

He cleared his throat and turned to his dresser, passing me without looking at me. But I looked at his eyes and ears as he slipped by. 

"Leaf!"

His blush deepened, sending color into his cheeks. "What?" he asked, turning aside. I could still see his neck since his hair was still bound back, and it had darkened as well. 

"How long did you watch me in the pool?"

His hands stilled over the clothing he was sorting through, before starting again jerkily. "I just dropped your things off."

"Liar," I accused, before realizing it would be less embarrassing—for us both—if I just left it alone.

He stopped again and let out a sigh, rubbing at the back of his neck. "I… I just miss her sometimes," he finally murmured, staring down at the clothes he had rumpled in his search. 

_She misses you too,_ I thought, but thankfully my tongue knew prudence for once. 

"Wind… Is… is she ever there?" He was still turned away, his head bowed.

"All the time."

He looked up at me slowly, searching my face. "You don't show it."

"I've been hiding her from everyone—even myself—for so long it's become habit." I crossed my arms over my chest against the chill. 

"You don't have to hide anymore," he murmured, frowning slightly.

"No," I agreed with a sigh, "but I don't know how to let her out."

His head bowed for a while, and then his lips tightened and he fixed me with a determined look. "Then you will learn."


	23. Standing alone, together

Hello all, I'm back!

Obviously with a new chapter, too. School started up again today… But since it's all new stuff, I should be on a normal updating schedule for a while. 

Farflung: It's nice to know the chapter wasn't so long the small details got lost. I think Leaf does blame his mother for leaving. Perhaps in something of a childish way, as I doubt he's really thought about it for years… but I think it does. Still, fading is fading, and though he might be against it more than most because of his mother… without his love, he would be bound to die. 

LadyJadePerendhel: The story is written entirely from Alyeni/Wind/Tyran's point of view. It always will be. Sorry if that makes it confusing… ?

Unnamed: You have to give them some time to get used to this whole thing. Yes, they're stubborn, but they're also in love. They just don't know how to deal with it yet. After all, they've been bantering with each other for centuries in a way that is hardly appropriate between those who would be lovers. Um… who is Winona?

Thanks to everyone else who reviewed, every one is appreciated! 

On to the chapter…

(It's been a few weeks since the last one).

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

It was with some relief that I found Leaf leaning against the door jam, his head tilted in consideration. "Hey, Leaf," I called, beginning to head towards him. 

"No! Not 'Leaf.' You address the prince as 'my lord' or 'your highness', and you always curtsy and bow your head." Lanein shook her head at me and settled her hands on her hips. "And would you stop walking like that?"

I rolled my eyes and felt the temptation to pull out my dagger growing. Unfortunately I couldn't do it even if I had my dagger on me—Lanein wasn't one of my friends I could banter with in such a semi-deadly way. I sighed and looked pleadingly at Leaf. He straightened and came into the room in answer. "Enjoying your lessons?" he asked softly, drawing me to walk with him. 

"No."

"Not in the least?"

"I don't need to know how to banter with males. I know how to relate to them more than any unattached she-elf… and perhaps any she-elf at all ever will." 

"But you don't so much know how to deal with other she-elves," he countered, continuing to walk down the corridor. 

I shrugged and sighed softly. "I come to think more and more that they are truly another species. I would believe it entirely if not for the annoying fact that I number among them."

"Annoying? You wish to be male?" He stopped walking, frowning at me.

Taking a deep breath, I stopped, rubbing at the back of my neck as I thought about it, ignoring the times Lanein had tried to stop me from doing that same typically masculine gesture of uncertainty. "It would certainly have made things easier… at least until last year began," I finished a bit dryly. 

"That didn't answer my question."

I frowned and considered it. "If I had been born a son, it would have pleased my father… but not my mother. I wouldn't have known her as well as I did if I hadn't spent my first few years at her side through the day. Since I doubt Father would have been overly kind to me even if I was his son, to know her love is the only good thing of my past…"

"Glad to know we rank so highly in your memories," he snapped, glaring.

"I didn't mean that, which you well know."

His eyes softened slightly, but confusion darkened them as he turned to continue walking. "Do I?"

"Leaf," I sighed. "You've known me nearly all my life, first as Wind, then Tyran and finally as Alyeni. While I'm messed up about that, I know you are as well, but you at least can see me as me and know that I did my best to never lie to you… even if I had no choice but to conceal the pure truth from time to time." 

"From time to time? How about every day for nearly a thousand years?"

"You all assumed that since I was wearing my brother's leggings and tunic with my hair braided such as yours that I was male. I simply never told you any different."

"And hid yourself in such a way we would never know. I always assumed it was your enthusiasm that made you jump into the pond or a river with all of your clothes on."

"And you assumed incorrectly—is that my fault?"

"You never—"

"I couldn't!" I snapped, turning on him. "How was I to tell you? Just climb the tree we met in one day, sit down, and say 'hey guys, guess what? My father makes me dress like a male. Isn't that funny?'?" 

A low growl escaped his throat as he turned his head away. "We should have found out," he insisted stubbornly.

"How?"

"You couldn't have kept it so perfectly as all that. We should have known."

I rolled my eyes. "So that's what's gotten you so angry all of a sudden? You're mad because the great and mighty Legolas of Mirkwood, renowned hunter and archer, never figured out that one of his friends was a she-elf in leggings?"

He looked at me, a frown beginning to tilt his lips even as something resembling sorrow was in his eyes. "We would have kept your secret for you, would have protected you."

"I don't need protecting," I protested.

"You could have used it," he countered with a snarl, his hand lifting so two fingers could lightly trace the small marks that remained from the pendant being slashed across my cheek. The slight mars were nearly invisible to anyone not looking for them, and would fade entirely within a few years. 

"I was brought up male, Leaf, whether you choose to remember it or not! Yes, he hit me. Yes, he forced me to appear as male to anyone and everyone who didn't by some fluke or other already know… But those things made me tougher than the spineless she-elves who wander this hall in the hopes that you or some other noble lord will notice them, never going out into the wood or knowing what it's like to be truly free—I did not bow to his blow, didn't cower and run away—didn't need anyone to protect me, because I have always stood alone." After hissing out this speech I began striding angrily down the hall. My sense of pride—admittedly rather male—had been ruffled by his insistence I needed a caretaker. Yes, I was in a dress. It didn't mean I was incapable of taking care of myself as I had for the last thousand years. 

"Alye." 

The soft sigh caught up with me, my feet slowing until they stopped altogether. 

Warm palms settled on my shoulders, the fingers flexing lightly to draw me back just enough I was put into intimate contact with the elf standing behind me. "I didn't mean to anger you," he murmured, his forehead touching the back of my head. "I was only thinking that if we had known, perhaps together we could have found a way for you to be yourself so much sooner."

"And what good would that do?" I asked. My voice came out gravelly as the hands slid down my arms before sliding around my waist. "Leaf?" I croaked when there was no answer.

He sighed into my hair, then lowered his head to my shoulder, putting a light kiss on the—in my opinion—overexposed skin there before straightening. "Do you learn nothing from Lanein?"

I shook my head. "Well, I suppose I learn something, but though I am a she-elf, I am not a lady. What she teaches me is more or less a waste. Yes, I know I walk, talk, and eat like a male—and a wood-elf—but it really doesn't matter. It's unlikely anyone will wish to be around me enough that such could cause them so much embarrassment and horror that I will be left even more alone than I already am."

"What do you mean?" he asked, turning me to face him. 

I sighed, staring at a silver emblem currently fastened to his shoulder. "I mean they all look upon me as a charity case—a pity assist from their dear prince to some stupid wood-elf who doesn't even know enough to bow her head to him when he comes in, much less call him by his full and proper name." 

"You did not tell them we are friends?" he asked, confusion foremost on his face.

"I did not," I agreed.

"Why not? Does my friendship mean so little—"

"Don't even start that with me again, Leaf!" I snapped, breaking from his hold to continue walking. "You know damned well you're the only thing that kept me from fading." And the only reason I now stayed on these shores. 

"Then why do you hide it?"

"Because I wouldn't expect the prince to admit to being tricked by a she-elf who pretended to be male, then pretended not to know him when she ended up spending time with him during the winter festival."

"And pretended to enjoy that time?"

I froze, closing my eyes. I took a deep breath and began walking again. "I never pretended."

"You just admitted to doing so—"

"I pretend as I must! But emotions I cannot change, no matter how much I would wish to."

"Why would you wish to change them?" he asked quietly, catching me again, forcing me to turn and face him.

"Because if I could, it would be beyond simple for us to go back to how it was—the best of friends, finding comfort in each other's presence, not needing anything beyond that."

"But we both needed something beyond it," he insisted, his eyes filled with such an intensity I had to look away.

"It didn't have to come from each other," I protested. I closed my eyes. "Damn Tara!"

"Why?" he asked.

"She made me look at you," I mumbled, before realizing how that sounded… and what could be inferred from it. My eyes snapped open and I backed away, pulling my arm free. "Is it safe for me to return to my flet yet?"

"Has been for the last three weeks," he answered absently.

"What?" I whirled on him, my eyes narrowing as he smiled.

"You didn't ask."

"I assumed that my _friend_ would tell me when I could leave."

"Then you should know what it feels like to assume something incorrectly!" he snapped back, before his eyes hardened. "Besides, you cannot leave."

"Excuse me?" I lifted a brow at him, putting a glare in my eyes, warning him not to say what I had a feeling he was about to.

"You will not leave the halls until I release you." 

"What?"

He looked at me, shaking his head slightly.

Okay, so I had heard him. I just couldn't believe he assumed I would go along with it—order or no—without complaint. "Why?"

With a sigh he rubbed at the back of his neck. "We need time to understand where we stand."

"Stand?"

"With ourselves, with each other." He reached out and tucked a bit of hair behind my ear. "You know that we found something between us during the festival, Alye. It is up to us what we choose to do about it."

"How can we do anything when you forever see a male elf when you look at me?"

When he looked at me then, I swear my heart stopped for a long moment. I think he heard it too, his gaze dropping to my chest for an instant before he returned his gaze to mine. "Since you came before my father to be free of your own I have _never_ thought of you—even in memory—as a male elf." 

I took a deep breath, reminding my heart to work, and frowned at a spot on his shoulder. "Yet you spoke of me as a he for a while."

"I… I was angry, upset, confused… and it was something of a habit at that point." He sighed and turned slightly, rubbing at his neck again. "And it was safer to think of you as my old friend than as the she-elf who had nearly broken my heart."

I took a deep breath and dropped my gaze to the ground. So the words were out, now. I still didn't know what to do. 

"Wind?" he asked softly. 

With a sigh I mumbled a half hearted 'hmm?'

"If you claim to have never pretended when it came to emotions…" He broke off and still didn't meet my eyes. 

I closed them and moved so I was standing behind him, knowing what he wasn't quite asking. I lifted my hand and let it settle on his shoulder, before setting my forehead beside it. 

He reached back and took my other hand, drawing it around at his waist so we were pressed against one another. "Alye," he whispered, the tension in his body drawn tighter. 

"What fate is laughing at us?" I asked quietly, lifting my head only to have it settle again, my ear to his throat, hearing every heartbeat, every breath. 

"Perhaps they meant to test us," he murmured, the sound coming oddly, distorted in one ear and perfectly clear in the other. 

"Or to leave us forever barely friends, unable to get over the deceit neither created." 

The hand he hadn't entwined with my own lifted now, lightly touching my cheek, holding me against him for a moment before he turned, the hand moving to my neck, his thumb arching over the curve of my jaw. For an instant my eyes closed, feeling the touch so keenly as his other hand lightly touched my waist, settling there without moving. "I have remembered every time we spoke, replayed them in my mind time and again—I do not blame you for your father's command."

I actually smiled then. "Then my hope is restored," I murmured, expecting I would be let go. 

Instead the hand at my waist curved to the small of my back, bringing me closer once more. "Would you have your path bend to mine?" he asked softly, his head bowing so his nose lightly nuzzled my throat.

"It did once, and we both nearly faded."

"Because of that which we could not control. Now it no longer exists."

"But there are many things we cannot control. What if another—"

"If another comes, we will fight it as have all those before us." A light kiss touched my jaw before he lifted his head entirely, a plea shining in his bright eyes. "Please, Alye. Don't run away this time," he whispered, before he lowered his head slightly, his eyes falling to my lips. 

A tremor ran through me, a curl of pleasure shooting through my gut, tightening my muscles in memory and anticipation even as some small part of me—mostly unheard, and entirely unheeded—told me to back away. My eyes drifted shut even as he smiled faintly at my response, as he closed the distance between us. 

My fingers curled on his chest as this kiss lingered, growing deeper. His hands shifted, one curving me more tightly against him as he shifted his body to allow it, his other hand sliding into my hair to hold my head where he wished it. After a few delightful seconds he smiled against my lips, the arm around my back shifting to my hand, tugging it loose from his tunic before lifting it to his shoulder, immediately pulling me even closer. 

His heat swamped me, and I heard a soft whimper leave my throat as I lifted my other arm to wrap about his neck, holding him close and allowing him to draw me even more tightly to him. The kiss broke for a moment, but then resumed. 

After a lifetime—an instant—his lifted his head slightly, resting his forehead against mine. A beautiful smile tilted his lips as I flushed, hearing the soft titters of those around us in the corridor. His arms loosened around me as I turned my head slightly to avoid the amusement in his eyes as the servants continued to whisper. 

I blinked at my hands in surprise, finding them buried deep in his hair. I disentangled them carefully, trying not to pull his hair. I tilted my head, letting my hair fall down to hide my face from those who watched us. 

Leaf released me save for one hand, the other lifting to lightly brush some of my hair back so he could see me better, letting it linger in such a way the others couldn't see the color I could feel filling my cheeks. "You do not run," he murmured softly, turning the touch into a caress, his fingers running lightly over the color in my cheek.

"My brain says the words, but my feet do not listen," I admitted, my eyes still downcast.

At least until he lifted my chin in his palm. His smile was faint, yet still crooked, his eyes sparkling. "They listen to your heart," he whispered, dropping his head slightly to kiss me again, ignoring the elves around us. 

Taking a deep breath I leaned into him, some part of my fuzzy rational mind insisting he would keep me safe… from the stares and whispers he was generating! Knowing I was irrational didn't help as his mouth slanted over mine, deepening the kiss. Rational thought fled entirely as his hand slid into my hair again, his thumb lifting to my ear, brushing the outer shell. I shuddered and felt the silken weight of his hair in my hands once more. 


	24. Trust

Ahh… I love getting reviews for this story. They're somehow much more interesting than for my others (where it's _usually_ 'write more soon'.) Of course, knowing people care enough to take the time even to do that is cool. Ya know, I got a couple reviews over the weekend for my oldest story—the one I've considered taking down because it seems rather poor quality to me now—from people who liked it. I guess I criticize my own work more than most readers do. Either that or they don't bother to continue reading. 

Okay, introspection aside, onto review responses:

Farflung: Sometimes I almost give up on chapter titles. It's hard to come up with a few words to sum up a chapter decently without giving it away. But _I_ use them a lot later on to help remember what's in each chapter… and in stories I read, it's a good bookmark. 'Hmm, never saw that one before… start reading there, then!' ; ] Snorfle. That has to be the best thing anyone has put in a review yet. It's great. Alyeni definitely has a skewed view of females. She's had relatively little experience with them through her life, except for Taradriel, until going to the halls, where many of them probably are a bit less… normal? (At least in our modern, liberated view) Yeah, she stuck around… but she's still a runner.

Elyena2: I think I had a character named Elyena once… never finished it, though. Not that it matters. I'm a little off the wall at the moment. Avoiding my Micro lab. Thranduil knew as soon as they did what was going on, but being a bit removed, likely understands a heck of a lot more. The lady lessons will remain in the reader's imagination… I just couldn't get myself in the mood for torture… which is an odd quirk for writing a story from first person, I've found—you have to _be_ the character, to some degree… and I just couldn't handle that at the time. I think the question right now is _if _they stay together…

Unnamed: Well, it is Taradriel… but whatever. I have the darnedest time thinking up names. 

Kelsey: There is a bit more to go… think months, not weeks. (Sorry) There will be some outside obstacles, but mostly they are their problem. 

To everyone else: Yes, they kissed. Hold onto your hats… more kissing on the way… 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

I shook my head and laughed as the elves I was watching bantered cheerfully and failed to hit the targets they had set up. 

As one they turned to me, several brows lifting and more frowning as they saw me. "Think you could do better?"

"Blindfolded," I returned confidently, taking the first bow offered to me. With hardly a glance I pulled and released the arrow, turning my head slightly to see it had itself proudly embedded in the center of the target. 

They stared at me with mouths hanging open. "Wha… how?"

I laughed again, returning the bow to the elf who had loaned it to me. Before I could open my mouth to speak, an answer came from behind me.

"She had a good teacher," the voice said, before I felt warmth all along my back as the speaker stepped much closer than would be allowed anyone not a lover. No guesses who, lover or no.

The elves all bowed their heads. "My lord," the one whose bow I'd used murmured. The humor in his eyes had died, and he drew a bit farther back from me. 

With a sigh I turned to face Leaf. "Leaf," I complained.

"Alye?" he countered, his eyes hard. "You should not be out here."

"Because it is not proper?" I asked, my eyes narrowing.

He caught the warning… and ignored it. Knowing him as I did the flare of possessiveness in his eyes was as obvious to me as his anger was to those behind me. "It is not," he agreed, a warning of his own coming into his eyes, warning me not to protest in front of the elves around us. 

I paid as much attention to his warning as he had to mine. "Then you should not have taught me the art, if you planned for the knowledge to dwindle away in the dusty halls of your father."

"I did not intend it at the time," he countered, eyes narrowing, reminding me he had thought me male when he taught me to shoot. 

"And now you do?" 

The flicker of his eyes was enough to answer that.

With a muttered curse I turned on my heel and strode—still with the wide step and confidence generally attributed to males—back into the great hall. Before I had reached the royal section of the hall I could feel Leaf coming up behind me. It wouldn't have done for him to hastily exit and come after me, after all. 

"Alye!"

Once the doors had been shut behind us I whirled on him. "I was also Wind for many years. Have you forgotten that now?" 

"You were male to their eyes—now you are not, even if you still bear the same strength and will." He crossed his arms over his chest.

I laughed bitterly, mirroring his stance. "I am not yours to lock away, Leaf."

"Are you not?" he asked, his angry eyes slipping from mine to my lips before rising to my ears and finally looking at me again. 

"If I were truly yours, Prince Legolas," I spat out, "then you would not lock me away—for you would have no need to do so!"

"But I have the need, Alye, though I know you are mine," he countered softly. "I need to lock you away from everyone else, keep you to myself and know that you are always safe, always mine and mine alone." 

"You trusted me with your life when you believed me only to be Wind—even as I held a sword to your throat believing you were plotting against Thranduil." Living in the halls for the last months had made it obvious—to me, at least—that Thranduil was more like Leaf than any one would believe… and both were fairly ordinary elves, though trained throughout their lives to live up to the titles their blood gave them—along with a fair amount of stubbornness, and some strength that came from the way they were raised as well as from their blood. "If I do not garner the same respect as Alye, the same trust… then I have no reason to stay."

"Am I not reason enough?" he asked, eyes narrowing farther as his hands tightened over crossed his arms. 

"When you are like this—no. I am not your lover, some mindless lady who has fallen into your bed for the night… Or all things considered, welcomed you into hers." Every _lady_ I'd come across had expressed their shock—verbally—that I was installed in the royal chambers. It was apparently considered almost sacrilegious to enter unless a servant, as none before ever had. Well, I was just breaking all sorts of traditions, wasn't I?

"Then we are simply friends?" he growled, moving forward. I'd expected both that, and the fiery kiss he gave me then, holding the contact—one arm around my back, his other hand caressing my cheek and ear alternately—until I'd melted against him. Only then did he lift his head, triumph and desire blazing together in his ever-bright eyes. 

I had found one thing that was definitely sex-related. The male ego. He had it. The way I had—in his opinion—succumbed to his will had blown it out of all proportion. Again. We didn't see eye to eye on this, him seeming to believe that by proving my obvious weakness to his touch he could prove that he was right in everything, while I believed that it was a rather separate issue… which we still hadn't quite dealt with, all things considered. 

I looked up from his throat to meet that blaze, anger shining in my own eyes. A faint frown tilted his brows for an instant, before his features were schooled into impassivity, waiting for my next move. I could see he wasn't expecting to like it. "Are you quite done? Can we get back to discussing this?"

"I thought we were finished," he murmured, the faint frown reappearing.

_Males!_ If I hadn't been numbered among them for so long, the curse would have probably hit the air… because I knew better than most that as far as being male, he was fairly typical. "Not hardly," I countered, disentangling myself from his arms. Even if it wasn't what a good part of me wished to do. These little spats had been growing in number, frequency, and duration. The last time we'd nearly not spoken for two days. Not long by elven standards, true, but long for friends as old as we were, considering the proximity we were constantly kept in. 

"What is there to talk about?" he asked, actual confusion in his eyes. 

I bit my tongue to keep the first thing that came to mind from escaping my lips. _If you don't know, then there's no point in me telling!_ It would have been just too typically female… and I still had trouble grasping where I should end up on the male verses female scale. I could never truly be comfortable at either pole, and swaying back and forth was trying, for me and Leaf. I closed my eyes and slowly let out a long breath. "We need to discuss the fact that I am not a child who needs your protecting. Nor am I a lady who can do nothing more than scream or cry when distressed." Tears were still taboo for me, probably to Leaf's eternal relief, considering how often we ended up at sharp words. It was too often, really. 

As his eyes turned stubborn, that male gleam coming out again, I sighed and turned aside.

"If you're unwilling to trust me…" What? I didn't know how to finish it, simply knowing it was a serious threat even if I couldn't figure it out exactly.

He let out a tense breath and once again drew me into his arms. His warmth was comforting, as was the way he tilted his head down beside mine, our temples together. "I do trust you," he whispered, brushing a kiss against my cheek. The embrace and that kiss spoke of a tenderness I wished he would think with once in a while before he had to stake his claim on me like I was his bloody horse. 

"In some ways," I conceded, lifting my arms to wrap around him, enjoying the embrace for the moment. Just for a moment. 

"Only some?"

I sighed at the soft murmur, shivered at the kiss to my neck, and nodded faintly. "With your life, with your secrets, your desires, your dreams…"

"What else is there?" he asked quietly, either seeking to distract me or truly sure there was nothing we could possibly need to talk about, his head tilting in such a way the tips of our ears came together. At once the gentle embrace was something more as both stilled to feel that pleasure a bit better. 

Thoughts were rather disjointed, especially as he snuggled his head closer to mine—every move sparking off the touch again. With ragged breathing I could feel his heart beating wildly against mine… As the doors were opened. 

And his father walked in. 

He took one look at us and chuckled softly. "Sorry to interrupt," he murmured to me with fond amusement, as I could see him, and Leaf, with his head buried in my hair and his back to the doors, couldn't, "but I have to pry my son away from you for a while. A council is being held before court begins this afternoon." 

Leaf groaned softly and carefully tilted his head away so lifting it wouldn't cause any more sparks between us, and then slowly released me. "I guess this must wait for later," he breathed, kissing me quickly before running his hands through his hair as he turned to face his father. 

Thranduil grinned and bowed gallantly, one hand swept out towards the doors. Making a face of disgust an orc would have been proud of, Leaf cursed under his breath and headed out the door, Thranduil behind him. 

"Your heart," I whispered belatedly, running a hand through my hair—which was nearly to more proper she-elf lengths by now. Somewhat reluctantly I sat down to think things out. I had been putting it off for long enough. Maybe too long, in fact.


	25. Forget you know anything of me

Laughard72: Yeah, that one I noticed as a bit of a cliffhanger. Writing this isn't really hard for me—I've always been a bit of a tomboy, and I really don't get waking up three hours before class to do hair, make-up and nails. There's something more important, in my opinion… SLEEP!!!

Jo: I totally agree… and so does Alyeni.

Farflung: Yeah, the 'public prince' act gets him into trouble. It's not that she can't use a bow… it's that he doesn't want her to be around the other guys when he's not there. He most likely has taught her more of the arts of war in their time together at the palace. I agree—she's not like his horse. But she's upset, annoyed… and a mental rant doesn't necessarily hit the truth on the head. Thranduil can be relaxed, because he's not caught in the middle of this love-or-fade mess. He'll try and push if he can, but for the most part I think he's going to just sit back and watch them figure things out. Leaf is much like his Ada, but he's so confused right now, trying to figure things out without giving her a chance to escape (and inadvertently making her want to, by keeping her so close), that he's not very nice to be around. I think I'll let you just jump into the chapter and hate me later.

LJP: Foreseeing the future, are we?

Animir: She spends several months there. Less than a year, but several months. Welcome to my version of Tolkien's middle-earth!

To everyone else who reviewed: Thank you, I appreciated them all… and I hope you don't hate me after this chapter. 

Jeeze it's cold in here! I can't feel my fingers. I am so out of here!

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

"Tyran!" 

I glanced up, smiling when I saw the elf calling me. I set my mask aside and dropped the iron I'd been pounding into shape into a water barrel. "What, Elrohir?" I asked as soon as the hissing water calmed.

He grinned and grasped my hand tightly in his own. "I just wanted to thank you."

I laughed softly, putting my hand on his shoulder. "I take it you like it?"

"Like it? You were overly modest in your mention of skill to father when you arrived."

I shrugged but couldn't keep a pleased smile from tilting my lips. "And Elladan?"

"Green, utterly green," he returned, still grinning recklessly. "He shall no doubt have father seek you out for his next weapon, and he has already encouraged father to have you outfit Estel with a blade for his travels. The ones men make are too poor to suit us."

I nodded, understanding that though human, they thought of Estel as their own. "One new, or pre-designed?"

"One you have now would be nice," came the familiar gruff voice. An arm wrapped around my neck, tugging me roughly to a side. "Since I'm headed to Mirkwood soon."

"Mirkwood?" Elrohir asked with a frown. "Why on Middle-Earth would you want to do that?"

"I'm supposed to meet with the royalty, see about becoming an ambassador for Imladris and for the men of the world," he answered with a straight face. 

"Indeed," I murmured, jabbing his gut with my elbow. 

He stumbled backwards, shaking his head. "I hope all Mirkwood elves aren't as physical as you. You wouldn't happen to know either the King or the Prince, would you?"

_Very nearly intimately,_ I thought. "I have, in times past," I answered slowly. 

"Oh," Estel's eyes lit up. "Then could you give me some pointers?"

"If you wish to fight with them, I can indeed," I agreed icily, recalling the final fight I'd had with Leaf—mostly one-sided. Annoyingly so, in fact. Once again he thought I was a bit too relaxed around the male elves in the halls and sought to limit my activities to those of the other 'ladies'… and I'd blown up at him, finally packing the things I wouldn't leave behind into a single pack, going before Thranduil while Leaf was stuck in court. 

"Are you sure in this?" Thranduil had asked when I informed him of my intent to head west.

"I am," I had agreed, seeing Leaf tense, ready to say something, held silent by protocol. 

"Decisions made in anger or confusion are often short-sighted, and in wiser moments would be considered folly," Thranduil continued with a frown, a flicker of a glance taking in his son, who was looking at me with eyes darkening with pain that was hidden by anger to those that didn't know him as well as we did. 

"It is to avoid such foolishness that I choose to head west now, sire," I murmured in return, bowing my head slightly to him as he had no choice but to release me. Since my things were packed, I left right then, unwilling to wait until Leaf could voice all the complaints and protests building in his eyes. 

Estel's confused voice brought me back to the present. "You fought with the King?"

"No. Thranduil is a kind elf, one who cares about the well-being of his subjects."

"Spoken like a true subservient wood-elf," Elrohir commented. 

I glared at him, but Estel broke in as I opened my mouth to reply with a scathing comment. "Then you fought with the prince?"

"On numerous occasions, in fact," I agreed, growing a bit uneasy with the direction of the conversation. "We grew up together," I added quickly, hoping the image of small elves running through the wood with little toy swords and miniature bows would distract him from continuing.

"Oh. So you're of the nobility in Mirkwood?" 

I hadn't counted on his ignorance where the Wood was concerned. With a roll of my eyes I shook my head. "Things must indeed be backwards here," I muttered, before turning to face him truly. "When young male elves come to a certain age when they would begin to venture from their mothers normally they are sent into the woods to play with other elves of about their age. My group totaled nine, and Legolas was among them."

"And you still fought with him, knowing he was the prince?"

"I didn't know he was the prince until but two years ago," I returned, waving the comment away. "And we had long since left the wood to join the adult world."

"Then why didn't you know it was him?" Estel persisted. Elrohir was grinning in amusement, obviously aware I was growing impatient with the never-ending questions. 

"Because we all used different names, ones that either we chose or that were given to us."

"Oh." He fell silent for a minute. "Then what were your names? His and yours?"

I shook my head. "If I told you, I'd have to kill you… and I rather doubt Lord Elrond intends to lose a son today."

Estel tilted his head to the side and frowned. "Oh… What else should I know of Mirkwood before I go?"

"Never head into the patches of wood where the paths have been overgrown, for they are no longer ours. Do not head to the river outside the main village at sunrise unless you wish to be beheaded or worse—"

"Worse?"

"Imagine a hundred she-elves armed with only sharp cooking implements and anger at you for walking in on their bathing time."

He visibly paled, then flushed, and nodded while looking down at his scruffy boots. "Anything else?"

I let out a breath, frowning slightly as I thought about it. "Don't drink the wine offered at the feasts by servants—only that already on the tables."

"Why?"

"You'd be drunk in a matter of swallows."

"Oh. That stuff."

"Yes," I agreed. Finally I shrugged. "I would say not to get any weapons from Torrei, but I don't know who to recommend you to, should you need something."

"Professional jealousy?" Estel mocked, shaking his head while crossing his arms.

I rolled my eyes and shook my head. "Torrei is not a weapon smith. I am. Several others are as well, but Torrei—the hall smith—is not. The guards have gotten in the habit of leaving the halls for their weapons." Mentioning Leaf and I were the cause was something I bit my tongue to prevent. 

"Oh." Estel was about to ask something else when Elladan entered. "Hey."

"Good morning, Estel," Elladan murmured in return. "I see you already heard the news. Have you picked out a blade yet?"

"No. Just talking about Mirkwood with an elf who would know."

Elladan huffed, crossing his arms over his chest. "Meaning I wouldn't? I've been to Mirkwood."

"Not in the last hundred years or so, and even then was probably just for a feast or something, right?" Estel shook his head before grinning. "While Tyran lived there for all but a few years of his life… and knew the prince."

"I know him too," Elladan muttered, glaring at Estel. 

"So? What are _you_ going to tell me about him?" 

The challenge was clear, and Elladan rose to it, even though he knew he was being baited. "He's one of the best archers of Mirkwood, an experienced guard and one of his father's head captains. Despite that, his blood keeps him much more cordial to outsiders than are most wood-elves—who would tend to be paranoid about strangers."

"Only because the strangers who would be stupid enough to go through the wood to reach us are orcs, trolls, men, and dwarves." 

"What's wrong with men?" Estel asked, scowling.

"Nothing… but they do tend to be rather crude, especially when they have just themselves and their dogs for company." 

Estel grunted but turned to Elladan. "Anything else?"

"What else is there?" Elladan murmured with a shrug. "Oh," his eyes sparkled with a smile. "I suppose I should add that though he has all the ladies falling at his feet he hasn't yet chosen one as his wife… though there was some speculation a while ago that he would marry." Elladan turned to me with a faint smile. "I suppose you heard all about it?"

"The entire wood knew he nearly faded," I murmured quietly. "He has recovered."

"He's strong," Elladan agreed. "Did you hear anything of the lady?"

"Not much. She wasn't well known… in fact, she was said to be visiting a friend and ended up having to stay for the winter festival." I looked around my shop, saw the orders I had yet to fill. "Now, Estel, if you would choose a blade so I can shove you all out the door and get to work, I'd appreciate it."

The three sons of Elrond shared amused glances, but began searching out a blade that was fine enough without any ornate qualities that would set Estel apart from his true kin when he joined them. As had every other buyer who entered my shop, they paused at the set of double daggers I had first made when I arrived in Imladris. I suppose I'd been a bit homesick at the time, because I'd made them without realizing what I was doing. The elves here didn't use them, but appreciated them, all studying the set with interest. 

Soon they had settled on a blade and removed it from the wall, saying their farewells to me. After a few minutes Estel came back in. "Do you want me to take a message to the prince for you?"

I stared at him for a long moment, a thousand answers battling for the first instant, before I began wording my response as I should. "I want you to forget you know anything of me once you leave Imladris," I replied. 

"But—" Estel frowned.

"But we used to fight all the time?" I finished for him. "Leave it be. We shall meet in the undying lands. That will be soon enough."


	26. Messages

**ElvenStar5**: I've seen other's call him Leaf, too. It's a nice little link through fandom. Anyone else would probably have no clue who we were talking about if they just saw Leaf. I've used it as a nickname for him in other fics, and no doubt will continue it. Alyeni is Tyran because she has been like a male for more than two thousand years, compared to less than a decade as a female. She's more comfortable as a male, and is currently liking her wounds after leaving Mirkwood & Leaf.

**LadyJadePerendhil****:** Legolas and Aragorn didn't know each other as of last chapter. They do for this one. Not way before the council, no. This is in Estel's wandering years, on one of his visits to his childhood home. Arwen well come in pretty soon—I already have plans, but it's always nice to know I'm not coming out of the blue… though sometimes I would rather surprise you. ; )  What does WYSIWYG mean? I mostly get online to do research for one class or another. Sadly, I've never even been to a chat room. Elrond has kind of taken Tyran/Alyeni under his wing. He's given her a place in Imladris (literally—a room), and a workshop, along with business. 

**Sarah**: Well, things don't always work out the way _she_ wants…

**Lady Deidea**: Um… 'sothing different fron very good'? I'm sorry, but I don't understand. Thanks for reading/reviewing… I _think_ it's safe to say glad you enjoyed… ? (Not trying to be snide, or anything. I just couldn't come up with anything that could be. Something different from very good? Soothing, different from good? Now I'm curious. What did you mean? I promise I'll reply if you explain. ^o^ )

**Farflung**: I agree with your daughter, but felt Alyeni would hold on there just as long as she possibly could stand it, hoping things would get better. He was one of her best friends for years, which counts for a lot. I did do the beginning a bit consciously, but hurried to make it clear it wasn't a mistaken upload. I think Legolas was a bit too annoyed (to put it mildly) to fade… and as long as he believes her safe… would he fade? Knowing who and where she is? I don't know… Part of what she does is no doubt inappropriate, but I don't know that he really sees that. She is what he wants, and he's blinded to the rest… which is good, from her view, if she had ever noticed that he was trying to help her feel like she fit in (other than when he was being so damned possessive and jealous). The line about the wood-elves gave me an idea for a new story… I'm not sure if I should thank you or not. I agree about the dogs. I don't think she would ever _forget_ about him, even if she chooses to move on without him. You knew about Estel so quickly! LOL! As for human impatience… well, we wouldn't have it any other way, would we?

**IvannethFuin**: What does that mean? As for them loving each other, that's about the only solid thing at the moment. It's unquestionable. As for what happens… give them (and me) time.

**Animir**: I don't know the Tolkien basis either, but I totally agree about how weird that sounds.

**Laughard72**: Glad you liked it. She/he makes friends easily. ; )

**Kelsey**: That's a good idea, but not what I had in mind. The blade was specifically chosen to be without the ornamentation that would make it stand out as not of human craft, though the quality would do that to anyone with eyes. So while an elf may know it as elven, the maker wouldn't be known by it. She does miss him, but thinks her running away was for  the best. Does Tolkien ever say he _doesn't_ get married? I haven't read anywhere where it says he _does_, mind you, but he doesn't write much about females, period. 

**Unnamed**: Yup, you got it precisely… um, yes and no. No, this won't be a so-called ninth walker story (yeah, heave a sigh of relief—seriously, I wouldn't do that to you guys! Or to me, for that matter. It would get awfully hot around here from all those flames. Not that that would be terrible. Spring's gone on strike again. Sigh.). Yes, the quest to destroy the ring will act as an enzyme… okay, too many bio classes. Lets try again with chemistry (ugh!)… a catalyst. 

**MyOnlyCa**t: … . … well… he has to come back sometime…

**Kat**: A year or two has passed, and yes, we're getting to that time.

**Storybook elf**: A tad controlling? Slightly stressed? ; )  Actually, school is usually the reason I don't update on schedule. Like this week, for example. I have an exam and reading to do which I couldn't over the weekend since I covered at work for people out of town. I'm just glad I had this chapter mostly finished ahead of time. 

**Name1**: okay, okay, okay, okay! LOL. Seriously, I try to update one chapter per week… though sometimes my classes run away with me and it gets put off for a week.

All of that done, I thought I'd throw in the last few lines from the previous chapter to help out with the kind of continued thought in this one, so you don't have to flip back:

~*~*~*~

_"Do you want me to take a message to the prince for you?"_

_I stared at him for a long moment, a thousand answers battling for the first instant, before I began wording my response as I should. "I want you to forget you know anything of me once you leave Imladris," I replied. _

_"But—" Estel frowned._

_"But we used to fight all the time?" I finished for him. "Leave it be. We shall meet in the undying lands. That will be soon enough."_

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Unfortunately, _that_ was not to be. I was working on a new blade for Glorfindel when I felt someone come up behind me. Glancing up I saw Elrohir and Elladan standing in the doorway with amusement in their eyes, until that moment unmarked by me because of my distraction… but it didn't explain who was behind me. Slowly I set my things aside, my mask dropping to the table as I tried to tell who it was without turning. Estel had returned to Imladris a few days past from another of his travels, but I knew it wasn't him. Though more elf-like than many humans I had come to know from my time in Imladris, he still could never sneak up on one, even when that elf was concentrating. 

Hands covered my eyes, making me frown harder. Besides the twins, I knew no elf here well enough for such familiarity—

The thought broke apart as the person's thumbs brushed over my ears. I shuddered and jerked slightly forward, my eyes freed from his touch. Once I was able to control my response enough to see, I found Elladan and Elrohir staring at us both in utter shock, small amounts of horror in their eyes. 

"Damn you, Leaf," I muttered, slamming my fists against the table. "What are you doing here?"

"I carried a message here at Father's bidding," he answered softly, slowly moving so I could see him from the corner of my eye whether I intended to or not. "Alye, why… Why didn't you ever let us know you were in Imladris? We assumed—" He broke off as I turned to glare at him. He swallowed, his eyes falling for a moment. "I assumed," he amended. "I assumed when you said you wished to travel West you meant to the Undying Lands, not Imladris."

"At the time, I was thinking along those lines. But the idea of seeing my father made me reconsider when I found I was welcome here." 

"And back to work, I see," he replied with a sigh, crossing his arms over his chest. Though sometimes defensive, this time the move appeared to be an attempt to ward off some inner chill. 

"It is nice to have something to do."

"And again you've found nobles as friends," he added, bitterness apparent in his eyes as he looked at the twins. They in turn looked at us as if we had lost our minds. 

"It is also nice to have people to talk to," I agreed, backing from my table to glare at him with my arms crossed tightly over my chest. "Have you given your message to Lord Elrond?"

"Not yet," he murmured, shaking his head slightly. "I started to, but he wished me be present at a council he intends to hold in a few days. Estel mentioned there was a smith from Mirkwood here that I might know. Imagine my surprise," he added dryly, "when it was you." He reached out and lightly ran the backs of his fingers down my cheek. He swallowed, his eyes falling for an instant before he lifted them again. "I missed you, Alye," he breathed. "Why did you run away? I thought you weren't going to, thought you were going to give us a chance. Instead I find that in any semi-form you take you have the ability to wound me."

"And you think having you treat me as some toy, to be carried off if anyone should so much as notice it lying on the ground whether or not you were planning to ever touch it again was an enjoyable pastime? To have nothing to do but wait for a free moment with you? To spend my time wandering the halls, unable to talk to the males I would feel comfortable talking with because somehow you would always show up to guide me away? To enter the library, find a book to read only to have Lanein appear and take it away, reminding me that true 'ladies' have no need for the knowledge of books, merely needing to know how to ensnare a lord? To be left—by you _and_ Lanein—with no one to talk to but those damned ladies whose main objective in their pathetic lives has been to capture your attention for more than a single night? At least here I am free to be myself, unchanged by others."

Elladan and Elrohir both shifted uncomfortably and looked at each other, but Leaf cupped my face in his palms, making them effectively disappear from the room though I knew they were still there, staring at us in mounting confusion. "Alye," Leaf murmured, a frown drawing his brows together. "Alye, I wasn't trying to change you," he protested.

"Weren't you?" I asked, feeling myself beginning to get lost in him again. Thankfully that had happened so often I was usually able to retain enough of myself to speak… and argue. "Then why force me to wear dresses when you know I'm more comfortable in leggings and a tunic? Why insist I let Lanein badger me with what a lady should or shouldn't do? Why keep me from doing what I know and enjoy doing?"

With a groan he dropped his head so our foreheads were touching. "You were right, I was wrong to do so," he murmured so softly, his hands moving to my waist to pull me closer. "But you didn't have to run away."

"If I hadn't, would you have ever listened to my complaints?"

He nuzzled my cheek with a sigh. "Perhaps not," he whispered, brushing light kisses along my jaw. "But how many more times will you take me to the edge of losing hope?"

"How often will you forget I am not some she-elf interested in your title? That is the least of your attraction, I assure you."

He smiled faintly, lifting his head so he could kiss me lightly. "I know," he murmured, before moving so our temples were together again. "But it is nice to hear." 

I snorted and slowly reached out, setting my hands around his back, feeling those wonderful lines again, sighing softly as he reached under my shirt, his fingers tugging at the vest I wore. "Leaf," I protested as the ties began coming loose.

"You've denied me holding you for nearly three years, Alye. Protest all you like, I intend to hold you for a while, just for a while." His voice turned from that of a prince to a whispered plea. 

I closed my eyes and stepped slightly back when the last fastenings came undone, letting the heavy vest fall to the floor at our feet. I was pulled into a tight embrace, one hand pressing at the small of my back, the other curving up my back slowly, pressing us together. At a certain point his hand deviated, moving around to the front, brushing along my side, shooting sparks through my belly even as he shifted so I slipped slightly into the cradle of his thighs. His hand lifted again, rubbing my neck for a while before lacing tightly in my hair, tipping my head back for his kiss. 

As I let my eyes fall shut I felt his tunic beneath my hands before all knowing thoughts vanished in the pleasure of being held, being kissed by this elf again. He didn't seek, didn't ask. He demanded. And all I could do was shift to allow him. As the kiss wore on I got a bit of an idea, implementing it before considering it for long. I lifted my hand from curling over his shoulder and brushed at his hair, before tweaking the tip of his ear. 

His arms tightened, his teeth closing on my lower lip for an instant before he broke the kiss entirely. "You do enjoy torturing me, don't you, my lady?" 

"We seem to be adept at hurting each other," I murmured softly, recalling all the fights, all the 'discussions' we had had while trying to adjust to each other. "Though we never try to do so."

He pulled back slightly, his hold gentling as he brushed a knuckle lightly over my now swollen lips. "I suppose I know why I acted like an elfling around you. Looking back… we were both confused about what had happened, tried to continue before we were sure where we were starting from. Perhaps we did need this time… But it doesn't make it any easier."

"No," I agreed on a sigh, resting my head against his shoulder. I listened to his heart for a while, and slowly became aware of the world around us again. I could feel two stares from the door, and knew things would change here as they had in Mirkwood when it was known that I was in truth a she-elf. "Damn."

"What?" Leaf asked, amusement tangling in the tone, knowing the remark had nothing to do with him this time… Well, not in a me being angry with him sort of way. 

"Oh, it's just—"

"Legolas? Hey, Leg—" 

I quirked a brow and looked up at Leaf, a silent 'see?' shining for him to see. He chuckled softly and kissed me lightly. "Hello Estel," he murmured, lifting his gaze after a long moment to the human who had interrupted our reunion. Sort of. 

Estel looked at us in completely unhidden shock. His jaw was hanging open, his eyes slightly glazed as he stared. "Uh… Um… Hi."

His expression was mirrored in the twins' eyes still, and suddenly it was all so funny! I laughed and stepped back from Leaf, absently running a hand through my hair, pulling the cord loose before I bent for my vest. I shook my head at them, still chuckling. Leaf was watching me with that old look of amused affection, waiting for me to calm down. "You really should see your faces," I informed those standing yet just inside the door. 

Elladan and Elrohir looked at each other, then at me with a frown. "Tyran?" they both asked at once. 

I smiled faintly as Leaf's crooked grin made its appearance. I shook my head slightly. "Long story… But my name by birth is Alyeni." 

They stared at me for a long moment. Estel was, oddly enough, the first to recover his tongue. "Alyeni is a feminine name."

"Really?" I asked, rolling my eyes. 

Leaf laughed lightly and caught me as I moved to walk past him. He pulled me back against his chest, his arms wrapped tightly around me in such a way it was obvious I fit my birth name. "I'm sure you can imagine my shock," he murmured, dropping a kiss behind my ear, "when I found out after two thousand years of calling her my friend that one of my best guy friends was actually a she-elf." 

"So… why?" Estel asked.

I wasn't aware of my reaction to that question until Leaf's arms tightened, bringing my eyes up from the ground. He answered for me after kissing my cheek. "Alyeni's mother and older brother were killed by orcs when she was… eight?" When I nodded slightly he continued. "Her father wanted a son… and forced her to become one, sending her into the woods with the other boys, insisting she hide anything that in anyway could show her to be female. Taradriel knew the entire tale, and forced her to be dressed as herself for a feast—my birthday celebration, in fact—when her father was away. I…" he stopped and cleared his throat, his ears reddening when I looked up at him. "I found her, and made her life a lot more difficult. Eventually she appeared before Father, getting herself declared free of her father's rule. He was sent west, and she was known as a she again… though after two thousand years she is understandably a bit more comfortable seeming male than attempting to be one of the brainless and helpless ladies of the Mirkwood court." 

The twins looked at each other, then back at us, a smile brightening their eyes with amusement as they put the final pieces of the story together for themselves. Estel looked between us again, frowning. "But he… she said you two fought. A lot."

"We did," he answered softly. "Because we were not yet certain how to deal with everything."

"No doubt there will still be trouble," I grumbled, with a frown.

"Then you will come home?" he asked, looking at me with eager eyes. 

At my hesitation, his eyes fell, a muscle going tight in his jaw. "We need to talk," I answered softly. 

"Talk. All we ever seem to do. And here I thought having a friend at my side would make things so much easier." Leaf slowly released me with a sigh. 

"As long as you remember I am a friend and not a mere possession—"

"Alye, later," he hissed, his eyes narrowing slightly. 

"Well, that lasted all of ten minutes," I muttered back, yanking my cloak from the hook on the wall. "I think we broke a record Leaf—even for us." I pulled my cloak about me and stormed out. Leaf, of course, was detained from following me by Estel, who had arrived to indicate he was requested by someone or other. 


	27. Until I have to leave you

**Mystress**** Deidra:** I don't mind that sort of reviews, but when people want a response, I'm hard pressed to respond to 'update soon' in any other way than updating… eventually. I like getting reviews, and I think those who take the time to review would like acknowledgement, but there's only so many ways to say 'thanks' to good, write more… and thanks isn't really an apt reply for that, anyway. Glad you liked it, hope you like this one as well.

**Concetta****:** Not usually… even when it was Wind and Leaf. So, they may never manage it.

**Kelsey:** What did you predict? They will stop soon… for a while… Definitely let me know if you find something like that. Of course, then the entire world of Legomance (odd word, really) would, for the most part, come crashing down.

**LadyJadePerendhil****:** What would Mary Sue chemistry involve? I've always been a bit fuzzy on some of the distinctions… Keep reading for other answers (chapter—you can skip review responses if you like). 

**Animir****:** I don't know if there were any gay elves. Absolutely none. The last chapter was working on the assumption that if there were any, Elladan, Elrohir & Estel didn't come across it, or at least would never have expected it of Legolas. 

**Iluvien****:** You aren't the only one. 

**Laughard72****:** Do any of us? I have yet to meet one.

**unnamed****:** I've actually been able to avoid chemistry for two full years! Of course, I've taken multiple bio classes every term since then… Sigh. Yeah… I just can't see Alye as a tenth walker, and I can't even begin to think up something that hasn't been done a few thousand times to make it worth the effort. Not to mention I couldn't expect people to believe it any different than all the others, and continue to read. I must admit to liking Irulan, though. (Obviously—they're both in my favorites.)

**sarah****:** Actually, locking them a room sounds like a good idea. But not soon, at least. I've got a few ideas ahead for the next chapters… without rooms. Oh well, maybe later. Yes, it was the council. I generally know more or less what's going to happen to the end. Sometimes that is somewhat uncertain, and if I get lots of requests for something I will change it or make concessions of some sort. I always find it amusing when people ask for something I already have written—as I usually write the chapter, let it sit, then edit/review it myself before subjecting you guys to it. 

**juvenile**** delinquent:** No, she didn't know. It was a group decision to not know who each other were, so that should they find each other again, they wouldn't have rank or job standing between them. Yes, it is/was leading up to that, and no, it won't be a tenth walker story, for various reasons, including the over-done aspect of most tenth walker stories. There's little left there to do, and I'm not going to try it. 

**Kat:** No, it's not going to be a tenth walker story. Promise. 

**Pandamei**** & IvannethFuin:** Thanks for reading/reviewing! 

**Farflung****:** Missed your reviews. Hope you're not too busy to relax with fics (or am I the only one to relax that way?).

**To everyone else who reads this:** No, this _will not_ be a tenth walker story. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Since Leaf could speak for his father in many matters between the two realms, he was detained most of the time he was there, and I was able to avoid him quite easily when he wasn't. In the last years I had come to know Imladris better than I had grown to know the halls, and could easily disappear for a few hours or days without being found. 

Any time I felt him coming, I left, found another way out, or simply remained hidden. I wasn't ready to talk to him just yet… after all, we always ended up in each others arms until we grew too angry at each other to endure the touch. I had left because I was tired of it, had stayed away and refused to contact him for that reason… and for that same reason I avoided him now. I didn't know what to do, to say, to explain to make it any better. 

"Hello Tyran," a female voice behind me murmured.

"Good eve, Arwen," I murmured back, not bothering to turn. I heard the rustle of skirts as she moved to a bench. 

"Can I ask you something?"

"Of course, my lady," I agreed, leaning back against the tree to look at her, my arms still crossed over my chest. 

"Estel has told me you know the Prince of Mirkwood quite well…" The way she trailed off almost made it a question.

"For the majority of our lives," I agreed softly. 

"Then do you know why he has never married? It seems odd to me… and indeed I have heard several she-elves here wondering about it." 

I smiled faintly and shook my head. "He has never married because he has never found an elf he feels truly loves him, not his title or position, but him." 

"_That_ is what you believe?" a voice suddenly exclaimed from the side. "I—"

I glared, narrowing my eyes at him. "I was unaware you were invited to join in this conversation, Prince."

He returned my glare. "And I was unaware I had to plan two months ahead to find you anywhere to get a moment to talk to you. As I'm leaving in the morning, would you not give me a minute?" 

Arwen looked between us, obviously feeling the tension snapping on the air between us. With a confused look in her eye for an instant before she could hide it, she rose. "Good evening," she called to us both. She was more or less ignored as Leaf moved forward, taking my arm and guiding me back to Elrond's house, all but dragging me down the halls. 

He opened a door and shut it loudly behind him. "Sit," he hissed, letting go of me next to the bed. 

To spite him I remained standing, crossing my arms over my chest. 

"Fine," he growled, before he began pacing. Slowly the movement seemed to drain his anger from him, and when he finally stopped his eyes were so full of sorrow and despair that my own arms dropped. "Alyeni," he whispered, slowly crossing the room to stand before me. "Alyeni, is there any chance for us? Please… I… I wish to know. You should know I have always loved you—" he paused when my eyes flew to his, a frown touching his brow. "Did you not?"

"I… I knew you at least thought you loved me at first."

"You believed my heart so inconsistent as to forget you when I find I have all the more reason to love you?"

I took a deep breath and stared at the first fastening on his shirt. "You spent so much time angry with me, that I—"

His lips took away the rest of my statement, which I was thankful for, not knowing entirely how I was planning to finish even as I spoke… never mind I had never really minded it when he kissed me, anyway. "Alye," he sighed, shaking his head slightly. "You are so young in the ways of she-elves… I was afraid you would awaken to the power you can wield over males with but a small smile, and would find that I had been but a passing fancy—a moment of pity for a friend."

"And my response to you?"

He sighed. "You have had no one to compare me to," he murmured as if the words were ripped from him, as if to admit such would be to put a novel idea into my head which could spark curiosity that surely wouldn't be good, to anyone looking at the situation from where he stood. 

I shook my head at him. "There goes your ego again," I muttered. "I have had comparison." 

He stiffened, his eyes chilling. "Who? When?"

I rolled my eyes. "And you wonder why I feel you treat me as a brainless child? You don't trust me." 

He took a deep breath, tilting his head back to study the ceiling as he gathered his thoughts. Finally he looked at me again. "I have had no one to trust in such a way before. It is something I shall have to learn."

"I've had no reason to trust, either, yet I do."

"Then you are a better elf than I," he sighed, "for though I know it is illogical to believe you would willingly cause me pain, the fear of it remains." 

"If it is a matter of pain, I think I should be the one to fear. Every time you treat me so distrustfully it is another wound to an already battered elf."

"Elf," he repeated softly. "Why use that word, instead of something more fitting? Like soul, or heart? Or do they have no part in this?"

"They are this," I admitted with a sigh. "Yet it is hard to admit."

"And that isn't supposed to affect me? You trust my love—even if only as a friend—but don't even bother to tell me you love me." 

I looked to the side, my mind racing back through my life. "I loved my mother. I loved my brother. I loved my father. I loved the eight of you. I loved Tara. I loved you." I looked back at him. "Two died, one spent his time trying to turn me into something else and striking me when I didn't bend to his way, I've seen but two in a millennia, and you believed me to be a deceitful betraying elf until you realized I was about to fade away because of the fallout from having saved you from that very fate. Tara alone has never done such, though she did make me become Alyeni when I would have comfortably remained Tyran." I took a deep breath. "I thought you would understand, would realize that my presence alone was such a declaration." 

"Then what was running away supposed to say?" he asked quietly.

"That I could bear no more blows, that I was already so covered in bleeding wounds that to be given another could well have destroyed me." 

The slight edge of anger in his eyes faded away, his lashes sliding down to cover them for a long moment. When they reopened, they looked at me with such sorrow and pain, his hands lifting to cup my cheeks. "I am sorry, Alye," he breathed, his thumbs caressing the tender skin beneath my eyes. "You tried to tell me before, to explain, and I would never listen, would I?" 

"You were hurt too," I whispered, reaching up to touch his cheek. 

He tilted his head so a light kiss was placed against my wrist and then sighed. "I guess I have my answer, don't I?" he whispered, something in his eyes beginning to fade into nothingness.

"Do you?" I asked softly, tilting my head slightly at him. 

"How could you trust me to do my best towards you? To work on trusting you, on loving you as I should have from the start?"

"I can trust you… because I love you, have loved you, through it all." I had looked down at his collar as I spoke, but lifted my eyes to his again when finished. 

A flicker of flame lit his eyes, his fingers tightening for an instant before sliding around to tilt my head as he wished it as he pulled me in for a triumphant kiss. 

I was getting lost in the kiss—or rather, it and all the others—when something in the touch changed, the joy and wonder turning instead to tender sorrow. "What?" I gasped when I was able to pull away. 

"I leave in the morning," he replied quietly, kissing my cheek, my jaw, my throat. 

Leaving? I frowned at the idea. "So soon?"

"I've been here for months. You've been avoiding me," he murmured factually, no condemnation in the words as he kissed the skin exposed by his searching fingers, my tunic falling aside. 

"I know," I whispered, unbraiding his hair with fingers that shook. "Then… what do we do?"

With hands still under my shirt, warm against my back, he sighed and straightened slightly. "You can either remain here or go to Mirkwood," he answered quietly. 

"What would you wish?"

"To be with you, either way… which is impossible."

I frowned. "What do you mean? Thranduil would certainly allow me back, or allow you to stay for a while with but a message."

"Yes," he agreed, nipping at my lips a few times before he slowly drew back, my vest falling to the ground between us again thanks to his clever fingers. "But I am not going home tomorrow."

"Where else is there to go? Mordor?" I asked, intending to draw out his crooked smile.

Instead he looked at me solemnly for the longest time. 

The world shook, and I slowly leaned back, finding the bed to sit on. "Oh, Eru." He was going with the Fellowship? "Why you?" 

He sighed, closing his eyes with a look of pain before he knelt before me, taking my hands in his, bringing my suddenly cold fingers to his lips. "I am one of the finest archers… and I agreed, because we were the ones to lose Gollum, and…"

"And?"

"And because I thought I had forever lost you as we only ever seemed to fight," he breathed, pressing his face to my hands. 

I took a deep breath and slowly sunk from the bed to the floor, moving my hands so they were tightly entwined with his. "You're leaving…" I breathed, feeling all sense go flying out the window. 

"Yes, love," he sighed, kissing my fingers over and over, as if that would make it all better.

"You're going to Mordor?"

"Yes," he sighed, closing his eyes for a moment.

As often happened, I retreated from the pain and dove headfirst into anger. Seeing it coming, he dropped my hands and rocked back onto his feet as I shot to my own. "You stupid elf!" I yelled at him, well aware this was the elf I had recently told that I loved him, but too furious at the idea of what he had done to care. "How could you—"

He put his hand on my arm, and my eyes snapped to his for a quick moment, somewhat surprised he dared to touch me now, but the question fell from my mind as I saw his sorrowful eyes. For once, my anger hadn't kindled his. He was willing to suffer anything I wished to hurl at him. 

My anger died as quickly as it had come. "Leaf," I groaned softly, going to his arms, wrapping mine around his neck while burying my face against his shoulder. He held me tightly, letting out a sigh as he rocked us slightly on his feet. 

After a few minutes he picked me up, and carried me around to the side of his bed. I didn't realize where we were going until the mattress gave way beneath me, and then I stiffened at once. "Shh," he murmured, easing himself down beside me, resting one long finger against my lips. "I just want to hold you. Let me hold you until I have to leave you," he pleaded softly, before kissing me gently. 

Slowly I relaxed, realizing I wanted to spend every moment with him I could. I nodded slightly as he pulled me against him before covering us both up. "If you don't come back, I'll kill you," I muttered against his throat.

He laughed weakly and kissed my forehead before pulling us slightly closer. "Oh, love," his whispered softly, lightly kissing me as his thumbs brushed away a tear. He murmured something lightly in the language of the high elves, but he didn't translate, and I didn't ask.


	28. Tyran today, and tomorrow, and every oth...

Sarah: Yeah, I think in general the elves of Imladris would have had to know something was up. Besides, she knows Estel, and Gandalf… and running across new halflings would be bound to spark curiosity in anyone. You're welcome… and I'm not so sure I could. 

LJP: Okay, I don't know what to say. Usually MS accusations are meant in a bad way, sort of a 'why did you put this up on the .net? We've already got thousands of these and another one isn't worth reading' sort of way… which I don't get that you mean from your reviews. 

Kat: Sure. A surprise coming soon to a fic page near you [scroll down ; ) ].

Animir: Nice to know you're there… I would try, but then I'd never get my papers/ presentations done. 

Iluvien: Actually, you have to wait a while past this chapter to find out if it lasts or not. ^o^

Laughard72: Okay, I just got done with a few articles for my Psych of Emotion class, so I'm gonna bore you half to death. Males are kind of stuck in a role—from early on in their lives, they're kind of encouraged to hold in their emotions and let display of them fall down to a minimum. Anger's considered okay, as long as it isn't always pure violence. Happiness/Joy, even, (I think), is supposed to be on the tempered side. Females, however, are encouraged to talk about & express their emotions all the time. So, with the basis for why they don't often cry, I've got one counterexample off the top of my head… probably because of the fic section I'm writing in. In The Two Towers (movie) Wormtongue lets a tear fall when he sees the army that's going to march against his former king. I always loved that. Probably because it _is_ such a rare display. Alright, I'm done now. 

Lindaleriel: Things typically get worse before they get better…

Concetta: Glad you liked it. I couldn't see her asking, at that point, but I figured someone would complain about it. No one has yet! ; )

Farflung: Hey, you're back! Cool. Now… Chapter 26: I thought the intro was somewhat amusing myself. And I have no idea if there were gay elves, either. I _still_ haven't read the Sil, and since my upcoming two day break is likely going to be stuffed with a paper I have to do, I likely won't… for a while. He didn't like to tell us much about home lives, did he? I thought Lanien was a bit over the top, but then she was likely quite exasperated by Wind, and stricter than usual considering the prince was the one who brought her. Glad you liked it, and I _had_ to play with Estel somehow. He's human—and rather old for one—but a still quite young being when around the elves. Chapter 27: Well, thanks for the vote of confidence… but I don't think it will ever happen, unless it winds up a total parody… and my sense of humor is a bit too dry for something like that. It was definitely a new thought for her. She's still having trouble swallowing the idea that she may be attractive to guys. Yeah, nothing much happens. Lie down, stare for a few minutes, and likely fall asleep. On her part, at least. 

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

Lord Elrond was in a foul mood. He stormed around the place as if he were about to come across a band of orcs to kill with but a glare. It didn't help things that Arwen had sent a token of her love for Estel with Elladan and Elrohir when they went riding off. Thankfully I'd known they were going before hand—I'd been able to send the daggers I'd had hanging in my shop for the last years off for Leaf. The others no doubt were fine, but those were undeniably better, since I'd had some practice in their art by the time I created them. 

We still had received no news… which was why Elrond was in such a frenzy. Okay, frenzy is not a good word for a lord of elves, but I've never seen him so worked up… in my few years here. Pacing at all hours, hardly sleeping—he walks by at all hours of the night—and he's apparently not eating either. Arwen has been worried about him, which only makes it worse, really. He's worried about her, she about him… 

Only she has an outlet for her nervous energy. Unfortunately that outlet turned out to be me, as her brothers informed her of the truth before leaving. Unlike Lanein she has been a kind and understanding teacher. Apparently she was raised a little bit wild, too, though not for too terribly long. No one would ever doubt her being a lady now. She also understands a certain distaste I shall probably forever hold against dresses, and says nothing about it when I show up wearing leggings and a tunic, though she did insist on having some tailored to me so one can tell merely by looking at me what I am. 

I can deal with that, with her lessons about proper table etiquette, how to deal with arriving or leaving lords, ladies or commoners, and when she spent a while convincing Glorfindel to teach me to dance—to his ruin. But I assured her if I was that interested in learning to be smooth and elegant—all said with a certain degree of sarcasm, to be sure—that I could get Joy or Leaf to teach me. 

It was funny at first, watching her blink and shake her head slightly as she connected the name Leaf with the crowned Prince of Mirkwood. Then she got used to it, and that amusement was gone, leaving me with very little to smile about. 

She had spent two days in contemplative silence once we found out—from Lothlorien—that the fellowship had arrived there with but one. Mithrandir, Gandalf, the wizard who knew better than any going what they were up against… was gone. 

The news he had fallen into shadow had shaken me as well, though I daresay she's the only one who noticed. It was hard to handle knowing Leaf could die. Could already be dead. 

"Dwelling on the separation again?" Arwen asked, coming up behind me in one of the gardens that almost reminded me of the edge of the great wood I had called home for so long, if I didn't look too long or too hard. 

"You read me too well," I murmured, my voice a bit hoarse from disuse. 

"I have studied you—you intrigue me. Female and male tendencies fighting for dominance, for display. I've come to have an idea how to read you, as Legolas no doubt has." 

"He knew me well as Wind. We could ever read each others eyes." I glanced back at her for a moment, then tilted my head slightly so my hair swept over my face. "It's odd. I rarely thought of him during the years I was here and he was in Mirkwood. But now that he is in danger…"

"You can't get him out of your head," she finished dryly. "Believe me, I understand." She drew up to my side, looking down at a small creek running near my bare feet. "Legolas is perhaps the best warrior there."

"And stubborn, and headstrong, and more than willing to go into danger to protect his friends." I shook my head. "He knows he is—if not the best—then at least the fastest, most graceful, and the one with the keenest senses. He will use those abilities beyond what would be asked of him if he were but fighting with elves, because he is the only one who possesses them to such a degree." I rubbed at the back of my neck, this time more consciously than usual. The movement jerked the chain that now hung around my neck, jolted that which lay hidden beneath my shirt. Its presence had become a comfort, but I couldn't bring myself to toy with it the way she-elves generally did. It was a nervous habit either way, but I just couldn't always think as a she-elf, and I didn't want to bring anyone's attention to that which I now wore. 

"Have you fought beside him?"

"Numerous times," I agreed with a faint smile. "Of course that was when we were yet children. Since then I have turned my slight skill to hunting, while his prowess has elevated his esteem in the Wood." I leaned against the tree, letting my head fall to the rough bark, bits of my hair no doubt tangling. "Still, we fought orcs, spiders. Once we saw a troll."

"Saw?" she asked, some slight amusement in her voice for the distinction.

"Mm-hmm. At the time I was only thirteen… which would have made Leaf and the majority of the others closer to seventeen. Still much too young to take on a troll, especially since the only weapon any one of us carried at the time was a bow and arrow—a pitifully small bow and arrow. The ends had been carved into points, and even shooting from the lowest branch of a tree couldn't have injured a ground squirrel. Leaf didn't even bother to try to kill the troll." 

"Legolas was the one with a bow? Why doesn't that surprise me?"

I laughed softly. "He's always loved archery. He had that silly thing as long as I knew him. He probably still does, come to think of it." 

She was quiet for so long I looked over at her. Her eyes were dark, her hands lightly clasped in front of her. 

"Arwen? What's wrong?"

She sent me a weak smile. "You can read she-elves as well as male elves now?" she asked quietly.

"It's obvious something's wrong—your shoulders are slumped, eyes dark, head down… What is it?"

She sighed and began walking. It was apparently not just a male thing… at least, I wasn't the only she-elf who needed movement to help think things through. Or maybe we just wanted to outrun the problem. "You've known him for so long," she whispered softly. 

"With a millennia break in the middle," I reminded her quietly. 

"Yes, but still…" she trailed off.

My gaze dropped to the ground as I understood. She would never have anything like that amount of time with Estel. "Sometimes I almost wish we hadn't known each other before meeting at his birthday celebration. Then maybe things would be easier."

"It seems to me you've come to some sort of understanding," she murmured quietly, a bit of the sparkle coming back into her eyes as she looked at me. 

I lifted a brow in question. "Oh?"

She laughed lightly. "Still not grasping the feminine wits, are you?" she teased, reaching out to touch the chain about my neck. "Let us see… When Legolas arrived I had never seen you wear a single piece of finery. Since he left, you've never been without this chain… Couldn't be related events, could they? And I don't suppose the absence of the ring on his hand could have anything to do with it?" She laughed again as I simply stared at her in shock. "Don't worry, I doubt any one else has noticed. Males would be more likely to notice if you suddenly lost or gained a weapon, rather than a thin chain which you mostly hide… Why do you hide it?" she asked with a frown.

I rolled my eyes and tugged the chain out of my shirt, rubbing the band of the ring with my thumb as I stared at it. "He said nothing… just left it."

"Yet you wear it all the time."

"And you do not think it could be for fear of losing that which is not mine to lose?" I answered quietly, dropping the ring. It slid heavily down to settle right over my heart, the sapphire sending small lights over my dark green tunic.

"I do not. If I believed it was just dropped in his haste to leave—highly unlikely, since he no doubt lingered beside you as long as he could—then perhaps I would consider it. But since I would rather guess he left it clearly for you, perhaps going so far as to fasten it around your neck, I am not inclined to believe it meant nothing more than simply not wishing to carry it with him." She ignored my flaming ears until the last, when she acknowledged them with a triumphant smile. "Do not ask such questions of a she-elf, Alyeni. We have no such doubts in answering as would pause a male."

"So I've come to realize," I sighed softly, dropping the ring back inside my shirt as soft footsteps approached. Together we turned, and with one look we both knew something was wrong. 

Arwen stumbled back slightly, unsteady on her feet as she looked at the elf in question. Her only response was a shrug. "Lord Elrond wishes to speak with Alyeni," he murmured quietly. 

To say that shocked both of us would be an understatement. We looked at each other for a long moment, and then both bolted for the building Elrond was likely in. If I wasn't so panicked by the thought of what on Middle-Earth he could possible have to say to _me_ I likely would have laughed at seeing the Lady Arwen running so. 

"Alyeni," Lord Elrond murmured when I came in. He lifted a brow at Arwen as she came in behind me, her skirts and hair somewhat awry, panting slightly from trying to keep up with me. "Arwen." He turned back to me. "I thought I should inform you—Mirkwood has fallen under attack."

I blinked, and came up with the most eloquent of replies. "Huh?" While I had been expecting ill news, that wasn't anywhere close to what I'd been thinking.

"The shadow within the wood has grown, and presses upon those elves who live within it. An army is being gathered as we speak." 

An army… I took a deep breath, slowly shaking my head. "This cannot be," I insisted. Open war… It had happened only once before, in my lifetime, and it had started with dwarves… which wasn't really that surprising.

"It is so," he declared, watching me carefully. 

I looked down… and admitted that though Imladris had been a wonderful place to live, my heart yet dwelled within the forest of my birth. "Then I must go." When I looked up at him, I saw no surprise in his eyes…

"No!" Arwen insisted. "Alyeni, what could you possibly do?"

"Whatever I can," I murmured, my voice gone hard and flat. I slipped into Tyran with an ease that should have surprised me, but didn't, not by that point. I turned to Elrond. "Would a horse carry me?"

"Take two," he answered, bowing his head slightly at me.

I frowned faintly at that show of respect, but bowed in turn. "Thank you, Lord Elrond." I strode from the room, already thinking how best to quickly pack everything I planned to carry back with me.

"Alyeni! Alyeni!"

I shook myself, recalling that that was my name, despite everything. "What?" I asked, after picking the horses, leading them over to my workshop as she dodged my steps. 

"How can you be of assistance?"

I sighed, slowly bowed my head, wondering for an instant what I _could_ do that wasn't being done. With a shake, I straightened, determined again. "Even if my presence gives us an extra day in our home—a day to get the villagers safely into the halls—it will be worth my own death."

"What about Legolas?"

"What about him?" I asked curtly, rubbing at the back of my neck as I looked around to see if anything else should be taken. Satisfied, I strode quickly from there to the room I had been calling mine for the last years. 

"Is that day worth his death, as well?"

"Arwen!" I stilled, biting back my anger, knowing there was no time for it. "We do not know that he lives, even now," I finally answered, throwing a change of clothes into a pack. "And what will it matter? If he returns home to find his own realm destroyed, how long do you think he would remain here, anyway?"

"But—"

I whirled on her, fed up with her and the more feminine habits once and for all. There was no place for them where I was going. "I am not an elf lady, Arwen of Imladris. I am simply a wood-elf of Mirkwood, who knows more about fighting and weapons than will most of those who now fight. Leaf is a good teacher… when he wants to be." Besides our time in the wood, he had made it part of our daily time while I'd stayed in the palace to train me. I think it was more his way of being sure I could fend off any unwanted attention than anything… But even so the knowledge of battle stirred my blood, urged me to be done with this, to go, to help… even to die, if it came to that. At least I could die proudly, knowing I was to die for my home, for those and for that which I cared about above all else on Middle-Earth.

"Alyeni!"

"Tyran today, and tomorrow, and every other day either until Mirkwood is safe, or there are no more tomorrows for me," I answered curtly, lashing my pack to the horse who carried my craft. 

"You are not a male!"

"No, I'm not!" I agreed hotly, glaring down at her. "But my heart burns within me at the thought of standing idly by as my home falls. If I thought I could have been of help where Leaf is going, I would have gone. That requires a level of skill beyond my own… but to fight orcs? If it was only that, wouldn't you have gone to Estel, to Gondor? I must go, Arwen. I cannot remain here if there is anything I could do other than sit quietly by and watch death and destruction come to my home." 

She took a deep breath, and calm slowly spread over her face. "Very well. Will you return for the wedding ceremony?"

"I do not know if I will be able to ride out with you, as hoped," I murmured. "But if all yet live, I will do my best to be there in time." 

She nodded, offered me a faint smile, and stepped back. "Ride hard. Don't look back."

I bowed my head slightly to her, gave her a tight smile and then rode off, glad that as children Leaf had often convinced the stable master to let us borrow horses from time to time. How else would I know enough to ride as quickly as I desired? 


	29. To the red dawn

**Iluvien****:** Thank you… and I wish I had a break that was an actual _break_. I mean, no sleeping in, two papers, a project, way too much lab work to do… why do they call these things breaks?

**Laughard72**: Where did the cockroaches come from?

**Kelsey**: I suppose you could say that. My friend watched that movie about ten times in two weeks. I never made the connection though. Maybe because I always saw the movie as a girl trying to save her father… which Alyeni certainly isn't interested in doing.

**LadyJadePerendhil**: Actually, my reason for reading is procrastination. I think it's a genetic problem. Any kids I should have will be doomed! I _am_ going to read the Sil some day. I am. Probably right after I memorize the anatomy of the brain. (And sadly, I'm not joking… sigh.) Well, glad you like it. This chapter… probably won't go up in the best of all chapters list.

**Kat**: Well, sorry it took so long to get this up, but things have been a bit nuts. I've spent hours in lab, more on research, and on planning a psych study of my own. I would ask for volunteers, but I probably can't. There's no doubt a rule about it somewhere. Solicitation, perhaps?

**farflung****:** In the book, at least, Arwen sends a flag. It's been about three years since I read it, but I think it has a tree (or trees?)… I don't know anymore. I'm pretty sure it was black… not that that's all that helpful. I just can't picture Lord Elrond (movie now) in a frenzy. Yes, he looks at Merry and Pippen like some cockroaches just appeared on his banquet table, but… no frenzy. I don't have that much imagination. I know what you mean about little Leaf. I get a kick out of picturing this little elf with his bow. I don't know… I think you could argue that either way. On the same note, do they die of mortal wounds? I suppose I'm a bit torn about the whole Arwen/Aragorn thing myself. Okay, she's an elf. He's a human. She's how many centuries old when they meet? But she falls in love with him pretty darn quick. Maybe there is some sort of spiritual recognition between elves, sometimes, and she just knew… but then how could Elrond protest? I run in circles every time I think about it. He was infatuated, then he's in love… oh… back to your review. Yes, Elrond understood. He sees more in her than she sees in herself… the future princess, perhaps? Arwen is a bit too… optimistic…

**IvannethFuin****:** Very good question. See below and make your guess.

**sarah****:** Um… who says he finds out?

And thanks also to **Name1** for reviewing.

I like the whole editing window thing they've got going on now, but they got rid of my divider, and won't let me put it back. Sorry.

**_  
  
Chapter 29:  
  
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Even before I made it to the part of Mirkwood where elves yet dwelled I could feel the change. The air—always heavy and still so far into the wood—seemed oppressing beyond anything I'd felt before. Heat buffeted me, slowed my horses as the sounds of war reached my ears. I called them to walk, and we crept warily along, knowing we would be of no use if we died before even reaching the battle.

We reached a small clearing, the trees having parted just a bit here, almost as if there was once a path. The first thing I saw was red. Red blood on the ground, red blood on a kneeling elf who was gazing up with glassing eyes at an orc who hovered above him. The rest of the world faded out as the crude—crude, but effective—weapon the orc held began to arch down. I threw my dagger, leaving it in his neck as I bent and hauled the elf onto my horse, never stopping.

"Which way to the lines?" I yelled into his ear.

He blinked several times and made a faint motion.

"Hold on," I instructed.

With a faint nod he kept blinking, his hand holding onto mine which was holding him upright against me more to hold himself into this world than anything.

When his grip began failing I shook him roughly. "Have a family?"

He shook his head.

"How about a she-elf, then?"

A slight flicker of his lips.

"Then hang on. The Halls of Mandos are not a good place for you two to next meet."

Another faint nod, his hand tightening on mine. I saw the hastily constructed healing tents and let out a shrill whistle. At once an elf emerged and took my charge. I winced to see how weak he had become, but after sending up a quick prayer, I started to turn, when I was stopped. The elf's breastplate was being held up by a maid. At my look she dropped into a faint curtsy. "He wished you to go better equipped," she explained.

"Thank him… and pray for us all." As she nodded I rode towards the fighting, handing off my horse to the first group of elves heading towards the tents. The other horse followed me until I'd unloaded it, then it began carrying elves to the tents as I began handing out swords and daggers to those near me.

They looked at me in surprise, but many were quite happy to get new weapons, throwing away their commandeered orc ones with relief. A few warped blades also went aside… and no one said a word as I fell into line beside them.

All battles are bad, and this was to be no exception. The sounds around me fell away, my eyes growing dim to everything except that which was directly around me… battle rage. It takes and tunes the senses of warring elves so they are aware only of that which could kill them. I'd heard of it, but this was my first taste of it. It was not a taste to be savored, by any means.

The orcs just kept coming, wave after wave… the day turned to night, and then became as day… for the trees were on fire. That shook me out of the rage, and for an instant I stared at the trees in shock, hearing their pain as the trees I had known all my life were engulfed in flame, the yellow orange light scorching the sky, making it as bright as day.

I felt something come up behind me and ducked away, barely in time. Pain slashed down my outer thigh, but it was passing, for the wound had not been dealt with a sharp instrument. It hadn't even broken the skin. Such realizations were fleeting, falling away in the cataclysmic knowledge that my home was being destroyed.

The orc who had attacked me had fallen to the ground, dead, before I was aware I had reacted to his attack. Two others fell by my hand before I noticed the elves around me were lining up, driving the orcs farther into the forest as others—wounded and she-elves—began carrying water in hopes to slow the destruction.

From the corner of my eye before I completed my intent to join the others, I saw something which made me pause. _Leaf?_

I tilted my head, and in that moment caught a glimmer from his eyes, and I stopped entirely, my jaw dropping open. He was battling an orc, two orcs, three… and he was not doing well, at all. The elves around him seemed clueless to his plight, and he didn't ask for aid, as to do so would be beneath any warrior, especially in such a battle as this. The world fell away as I ran forward, a sword in my right hand, a dagger in my left. Two orcs released their dark blood for getting between me and my goal, and then one of the four now attacking him fell to my sword as another one fell to his. I got rid of the third, and turned…

To see a blow about to fall. I leapt forward, thrusting aside the blow with my sword, shoving my dagger into the orc's gut while he was preoccupied with my sudden appearance. I shoved him back and hauled the fallen elf up. "You're a bloody fool," I snarled at him, before turning back to the fight, pressing on with the others as the fire roared above our heads, the heat and ash working together to sting my eyes as we went on.

"Oh, and I suppose you're so wonderfully intelligent to have come?"

I snorted and shook my head, my reply paused to kill another orc as my eyes watered to be rid of the irritants. "Well, it was in everyone's best interest. Can't bloody well have Leaf taking over the throne," I growled, knocking off another orc who tried to team up against him. "Would you take off the bloody sign that says 'Kill me, I'm the king'?"

"I'd love to," he muttered, "but I can't."

I glanced at him, noticed for the first time that he was wearing the colors of his house, and with a sigh and a shake of my head, I turned back to the fight. "I suppose not," I agreed. To do so would be to let the elves around us lose hope—which was scarce enough in this bloody night. "To the red dawn," I murmured, feeling the rage seep into my senses again, numbing the effects of the fire.

Thranduil nodded his head slightly at me before his senses turned entirely to the fight as well.

I kept an eye on him, as any elf would if they'd noticed who they were fighting beside, and so I saw the instant in which he was knocked to the ground by a doubled attack of the orcs. I again saw bits of Leaf in him as a third orc came up behind him, lifting the red-stained black weapon above him.

I had lost my dagger a while back, and my aim throwing swords could prove deadly to the wrong being, so I raced forward once more, seeing the orc before him was keeping him pinned as the second one he was aware of also lifted his blade. Time to hold off but one…

My blade crashed with the orc's as the other's fell. The impact knocked me off my feet and onto my knees behind the King. "To the King!" I yelled over the clamor of war around me. "To the King!" I shouted again, my voice cracking, wincing as the orc behind me ripped his crude weapon from my shoulder. I heard elves shouting around me, saw the orcs above us fall in battle with others, saw the one whose blade had ripped through the metal over my shoulder fall at my side, his eyes open, mouth gaping grotesquely, foaming black blood seeping from a wound in his chest and from his mouth to stain the ground by my thigh. Thranduil was helped up and escorted away from the lines before he was deemed all right, and then someone was at my side, pulling me to my feet.

My vision began to fade, the world going fuzzy and brown as I slipped to the bloodied earth again, unable to gather my feet under me. Red blood again, I thought faintly. Valar, I never knew death would be like this. Everything was going cold, the world fainting around me as sounds disappeared, replaced by an odd sound I had heard before… But what was it? Oh! It was my heart… slowing.

In my fading vision I saw Thranduil look at me, saw him yell out something to someone, felt arms come around me, lifting me… but I couldn't force my heavy body to move enough to find out if it was elf or orc. The last thing I saw as the brown tunneled away the last of my vision, sending it all to black, was the welcome sight of seeing Thranduil's guard form around him again. The King would not fall tonight, and he would see that red dawn.


	30. Bitter

Sorry about any confusion last chapter, I was trying to be a bit ambiguous, but it sounds like I did that a little too well.

**A notice to all readers:** I may have some problems updating in any decent fashion for a while. My computer (which I write on, since I have access to it 24/7) started making really odd squealing/screeching sounds on Friday. Saturday, after letting it cool off and be completely inactive overnight, I tried to back up all of my stories onto disks, so I would have them if my computer completely went dead. After the third disk, it started making crinkling noises, and the data on all of the disks was corrupted. Needless to say, this has been an annoying weekend for me, and we've got something of a problem. My time on school computers is limited, which means I have less time to type up chapters. So, I can give you two options: slower updates, at the same standard of grammer/spelling that I try to maintain, or I can continue one chapter at least every ten days (I hope--keep in mind what time of the school year this is) with less grammer/spelling double-checked (actually, it's more like quadruple checked. Those silly little errors annoy me, especially in my own work). Let me know what you guys want, and I'll try to manage it.

Cold-Blade: (New name, huh?) Yeah, I worried about how to do that, trying to get it to seem real without being too gruesome.

Sarah: What is who going to find out?

MyOnlyCat: I totally agree, and I always feel so bad for Elrond... but I still don't wuite know what was going through Arwen's head. Oh, look, a mortal, I'll fall in love, abandon my family, live amongst humans and one day die of dispare, sounds like fun? I know, I know, true love and all that...

Farflung: Actually, the way my school is set up, finals week isn't for another two weeks. Things are hectic though, with reports, projects, presentations, studies, etc. everywhere.

Nikki1: Okay, I'm back... and that's saying along, considering what happened to my computer. Sigh.

Iluvien/Lindaleriel: What do you think?

Kelsey: I agree that Alyeni meeting some of the warriors could be quite interesting, but as this story has come this far in her point of view, it's going to stay that way. I deliberately wrote so it would be ambiguous for a little while, but then she refers to him as the King, and I figured that would straighten things out. Sorry if it didn't.

Daphne: Welcome to my world (now if that doesn't sound pompous... sigh). Anyway, I know what you mean about studying. I have to ban myself from the computer when I have work to do or I end up either reading or writing until way too late at night to get on with studying.

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Chapter 30   
  
It was with a relieved sigh that I reached the broken gates of the white city. I shifted uncomfortably on the horse Thranduil had insisted I ride, my shoulder aching because I wouldn't moan and groan and carry on. I simply grit my teeth harder and sat a bit straighter, noticing all the stares I was getting as I passed through the city.

According to what I had been told, Estel's palace was… Right there. Good. I dismounted and approached, not surprised when I was stopped. "Name?"

I quirked a brow and considered throwing back my hood. "Alyeni."

"Reason for coming?"

"To see my friends," I answered softly.

"And they would be?"

"Arwen, Aragorn, Legolas, Mithrandir, Elladan, Elrohir, and perhaps even Lord Elrond himself. If you don't mind, I'd like to enter."

He looked at me, tilting his head. "Why do you wear a hood?" he asked suspiciously.

I sighed. "Because humans find elves unusual. I was stared at enough on my way through the city. May I go inside?"

He blinked at me, and with some awe coming into his eyes—which almost made mine roll—let me in. Thankfully the fool of a human didn't think to announce me, so I got to catch them by surprise. Well, Arwen and Estel, anyway. "Hey, hey hey! None of that in public!" I insisted, laughing as they jumped apart.

"Alyeni!" Arwen exclaimed, getting to her feet. "You came."

"And I'm too late, aren't I?" I asked wryly, looking at the crown on her head with an arched brow.

"Things are well in Mirkwood?"

I hesitated. "As well as they can be, I suppose," I answered after a moment. "And here?"

"Quite well," she agreed, smiling a little feminine smile. "It is nearly time for the feast… you will join us?"

"I don't see as I have a choice," I murmured dryly. "But my horse—"

"Is already being taken care of," Estel assured me, having just dismissed a servant.

"Thank you." I bowed my head slightly to him, knowing my shoulder was bad enough yet I had not been able to care for the horse as I should have on the journey. Thankfully he was an understanding and fairly patient creature… so far. "Where are your brothers?"

"I'm afraid you missed them, along with Elrond. They headed back a few days past. Tell me," he murmured, leaning forward, "what delayed you? Arwen was most worried when I spoke of your absence."

I smiled faintly, wondering at how poorly news spread, but before I could answer servants appeared with serving platters and guests began arriving. I was seated near Arwen, and rolled my eyes at Mithrandir, who simply smiled gently, knowing I still viewed him as trouble… in an affectionate way, of course. After all, he had helped warn us of the impending attack during the battle of the five armies, though I'd been forced—by Father—to remain in my master's shop creating weapons for the others. Besides, who didn't love those fireworks? Of course, the noise could have used some work…

"Alyeni?"

I lifted my eyes to see Leaf, saw in his eyes that which I had seen in Estel's—a certain amount of aging, of past pain which yet clung to the soul. The trials of their quest, I guessed. I smiled at him. "Leaf," I murmured, getting carefully to my feet to approach him so I wouldn't betray any sign of my injury. Pride—a stupid male habit I couldn't get over when it came to admitting how much it hurt, once I realized I would live. "I heard you were well."

"And I heard you were to have been here for the wedding," he answered, his voice colder than it had ever really been towards me.

"I'm afraid I was unavoidably detained," I answered cautiously. My left hand lifted to rub at my neck, and I winced as I recalled what was no longer there.

Of course, he noticed it's absence, his eyes narrowing, anger wiping away the pain I'd seen for an instant. "I see," he stated icily, tilting his head to be sure he wasn't missing it.

He wasn't. "No, you don't," I countered with a soft sigh. "But I am tired, Leaf. So you may think whatever you will of me… I have not the strength to argue with you." With that I sat down again, and found myself picking at my food and paying no attention to anyone or anything, since I'd been seated across from Leaf, and he was looking at me with those eyes, looking so hurt and betrayed… though he hid that, of course, in anger every human there could see plainly.

With a shake of my head I got to my feet as the dishes were cleared away. "Forgive me," I murmured, bowing my head to my host and hostess, "but the journey has been harder on me than I expected."

Arwen frowned but rose. "Are you well?" she asked, tilting her head slightly. Her eyes swept over me, seeing after a moment what Leaf had—or hadn't, I suppose. "Alyeni, what happened? Why do you not wear—" she broke off, clamping her mouth shut, understanding that it was no doubt a touchy subject.

I could feel Leaf glaring at me, but I was so tired I didn't care. My shoulder was aching again, and the room was beginning to fade. "I lost it," I managed, reaching out, leaning heavily on the table while trying to keep from obviously doing so as I also tried to keep from passing out. Again. I'd done it too often while I recovered just enough that Thranduil had agreed—hesitantly—to let me come. Yes, I'd lost Leaf's ring, and so—obviously—his trust. "Please, …excuse me…" I breathed, shaking my vision back into shape, pushing away from the thankfully solid table.

"Alyeni!" Aragorn, son of Arathorn, ordered. And I do mean _ordered_. "What happened? Why did you return to Mirkwood?"

"What?" Leaf breathed. I barely heard him.

"I had to go," I murmured softly, focusing on Estel alone. "How could I not?"

Suddenly the doors were thrown open, a cloaked figure striding in with angry steps. The guards moved to intercept him, but those of us at the head of the table knew, beyond any doubt, that the being was an elf. Putting his hand on his sword, Estel moved Arwen slightly back behind him and ordered the guards to stand down, not that it seemed the elf would have minded blowing through them.

"Alyeni, you stupid elf!" he hissed, crossing the room in a few quick seconds. He threw back his hood, showing me the angriest Joy I had ever seen. I would never have thought he could get that angry, much less would show it if he was. "What are you doing? Are you _trying_ to get yourself killed?"

I groaned softly, "Joy, go away," I sighed. "I really don't need this now."

"No," he agreed savagely. "What you need to be doing now—which you obviously are not—is nothing more than lying in the healing chambers with the rest of the wounded!" He latched his hands around my arms, barely controlling his strength just enough I wouldn't bruise. "You don't need to be riding around half the known world, not stopping long enough to so much as rest—much less continue healing—just so you could try to keep a promise you warned might well be broken if things didn't go well… and I would say that things did _not_ go well!"

"So you came riding after me merely to yell at me?" I snapped in disbelief.

His face tightened, and he shook me as words apparently failed him.

I held on as long as I could, but before long a sharp cry was torn from my throat as the pain passed the realm of acceptable and ignorable.

Joy's eyes widened as he released me, stepping back as if struck. "Alyeni, I'm so sorry… I forgot—"

"You forgot?!? You came all the way from Mirkwood to remind me I was injured only to _forget_ I was injured? Are all the elves I know from Mirkwood complete idiots?"

"Says _you_ of all people," Joy grumbled, crossing his arms. His eyes softened, his face worried as he studied my shoulder. "How is it?"

I rolled my eyes. "It's fine," I muttered.

"Alyeni," he sighed. "Will you never admit when you're hurt?"

"Fine!" I snapped. "If you want to know how it feels, you try having an orc sink his blade—far from a fine one, of course—into your shoulder, and then ride halfway around the known world only to be shaken for your efforts. If you will excuse me," I growled, stepping back. "I need to rest!"

"Alyeni!" Leaf bellowed as I got halfway out of the room.

I hung my head, let out an irritated breath, and turned to face him, forcing my chin up to glare properly. "What, Leaf?"

"What happened?"

"I did you a disservice. When your home was under attack I left Imladris to be of any help I could. While fighting, I lost the heirloom you'd entrusted to my care, while being drawn nearly out of this world. If that will be all, _your highness_," I finished, feeling angrier than I had in all the years I'd seen, "I would like to take some rest, as Joy and your father are—I've found—quite right. It is too soon after such an injury for me to be so active."

"Oh," Joy murmured, drawing my attention away from Leaf's strangely blank face. "That reminds me. The king wanted me to give you this when I caught up with you. It took them a while to find it, since you'd been over so much of the battle field for so long." He passed me the ring and the bloodied, torn remnants of the necklace it had been on.

I looked down at it, recalling the pain I'd been in when I lost it, the pain I had felt when I'd noticed it was gone… My fingers closed tightly around it, before I threw it across the hall. Not a bad throw, for my left hand. Leaf, of course, caught it with one. "There," I muttered. "You have it back. It's what you wanted, isn't it?"

Finally I was allowed to leave the room without being paused, a servant girl skittering around as she led me to a room. I eased myself down after removing the more confining—and painful—tunic, my eyes drifting shut to allow rest to be truer, and so more healing.


	31. Wood elves

Cold-Blade: It's an interesting name... is there a reason behind it? The necklace held Legolas's ring, which he left with her before going on the quest. It was a kind of promise--that he'd come back, that things would work out. Her showing up without it was between a rejection and a slap in the face for the poor, clueless Leaf.

MyOnlyCat: Yeah, I've kind of wondered if Celebrian ever knew what was going on until Elrond came over. It's possible, I think... but it must have been terrible.

Sarah: The battle in Mirkwood was near the end, I believe. I think it started around the time of Helm's Deep, if that helps. So, she's had just enough time to be able to hide her injury for a while, and have her stubbornness override the pain.

LJP: In my mind, Leaf is still ticked when Alyeni leaves. He's hurt, and anger is more acceptable an emotion to show at the diner table. But I'll get into that next chapter, and Arwen will be coming in too... although at this point, I have no plans for dresses. Maybe later, I don't know. As for my computer: I'm completely clueless about this sort of thing. A new power source might keep it from overheating? I have enough of a time keeping power coming into the computer--the cord flickers every time I move. Is there an easy way to fix the floppy drive, or should I be looking around for a new computer? (Assuming you know more about this sort of thing than me... which wouldn't be hard.)

Animir: All I can say is I'm glad I wasn't typing up a final on it when it decided to stop saving to floppies. (Praise Valar)

Daphne: Sorry, not just yet...

Farflung: Just picturing Leaf knocking back a shot of something cracks me up every time. There is going to be some discussion with those you mentioned, but ultimately, it's up to them... and I don't know how much more will come before finals (lucky me, I've got almost two weeks for those).

Thanks to everyone else who e-mailed/reviewed!

Sorry about the short chapter. Not much I could do about it right now. As soon as I get Not A Word finished--only a few more chapters--then I'll have whatever school time is left to work on this. Hey, I made the 10-day deadline! And I even managed to run through this a few times to look for glaring errors.

**_  
  
Chapter 31_**

With a hiss I woke, my body twisting in such a way to avoid the pain.

"Easy, Alye," a familiar voice murmured. "You didn't do yourself any favors doing so much so quickly."

"I sat on a bloody horse, Joy," I managed between harsh breaths. "Why'd you do that? I _was_ asleep."

"I know. I was hoping you would remain asleep so I could check on the wound… Why did the king let you leave?"

"He didn't have much of a choice, Joy. I was leaving whether he agreed to help me or not, and he damned well knew it." Slowly I was able to get my eyes open, checking to be sure he was the only one in the room. I took a calming breath and slowly did my best to relax, letting him fuss over my wound. "How's it look?" I asked a while later.

"You should never have left the healing rooms so quickly," he insisted stubbornly.

"Joy," I sighed, "I had to come. I promised Arwen I would do my best to be here… and I was still too late." I'd also wanted to see Leaf… but that seemed to be forever beside the point, now.

"Will you at least go to the healing rooms now?"

"No. I'll allow you to fuss, but not some human," I spat.

"Glad to know I'm so appreciated," Estel murmured, one brow quirking as he came in. He took one look at me and winced. "Looks like you had it worse than I did in this war."

"Just the one," I defended.

Joy snorted. "That's why you're black all over, right? Why every breath causes you pain?"

"I'm fi—"

"Damn it all, you're not!" His fingers clenched on the rag before he got up, storming from the room with a snort of disgust as the rag splashed into a bowl somewhere behind me. "You try to talk some sense into her!" he yelled over his shoulder at Estel.

He took Joy's place on the bed, looking at my shoulder in silent sympathy. "Well, so much for the quiet, composed idea humans around here had of elves."

I laughed quietly—and painfully. "Just remind them there is a distinction between wood-elves and high elves," I murmured.

"You are hurt, aren't you?"

"I'd think that was obvious, at this point," I whispered softly, somehow soothed by his quietness, and by finally admitting how much it hurt.

"Where?"

I let out a slow breath. "The worst is my shoulder," I murmured after a moment.

"Gotten how?"

"Orc from behind."

Estel quirked a brow. "I know you're not a trained warrior, but how did it sneak up on you?"

"It didn't."

He remained silent, the brow quirked, requesting an explanation.

I sighed carefully. "Thranduil was fighting off two, and was sent to the ground. One held him there, unable to rise, while the other two moved to strike. I was down to one sword… so I blocked one with my blade…"

"The other with your body," he finished, his eyes flashing. "What of the other wounds?"

"I was nearly skinned but twisted away, was struck a few times… It does hurt to breathe… and walk, and ride, and sleep…" I trailed off, turning slightly farther onto my side. "I can ignore the pain. I always have."

"What do you mean _always_?" he asked with a frown.

I treated him to a bitter smile. "My father ruled with a heavy hand," I answered quietly, before allowing myself to slip into sleep again, faintly aware Estel had moved to finish what Joy had started.


	32. Another day, another argument

Hey guys! I've finally got access to the internet again, but since I haven't been able to get on a computer until just a while ago, I only have one chapter ready. If I have the time tonight, I'll get the final chapter of Not A Word up as well.

**My Only Cat:** She really lost the necklace... She actually 'lost' it when the orc struck her with the blade. The necklace was pushed into her wound until it broke off. That was her worst wound, but it wasn't the only time she was struck... the only time it would have broken the skin, most likely.

**Sarah:** I don't know exactly how much is left, because I've been considering adding to it. If I don't, it will over in just a few chapters.

**Faerlan:** Leaf did grow up a bit, he's just not shown her that yet. He will, eventually. I'm considering adding another flashback soon, but I'm not sure yet. As for how she could have hide as a male... Haven't you ever seen someone, and wonder if it's a guy or a girl? The hair doesn't tell you, because so many styles are worn by either sex (let's not even get into gender), the clothes don't necessarily tell you, body shape either doesn't or isn't visible enough because of the clothes... and sometimes, even the voice doesn't clue you in. You can either think of her as someone who could, with a little practise, fit the undeturmined category, or you could think of elves as beings beyond humans, with less sexual dimorphism in their features and forms.

**To Everyone else who reviewed: **Thank you very much, but I don't think there were any questions/comments that needed to be addressed enough for me to put up with this _extremely_ annoying keyboard longer than nessessary. Other than to type up the Not A Word chapter, of course.

**__**

**__**

**_  
  
Chapter 32_**

When next I opened my eyes it was to see Arwen sitting beside me. The room was dark, so I assumed someone had closed the shutters. Arwen was staring at the floor, frowning slightly. I tapped her hand, rousing her from her thoughts.

"Alyeni!" she exclaimed, moving to hug me before visibly stopping herself. "You're awake."

"Of course," I agreed softly, feeling no desire to move.

"How are you?"

"I'm fine—"

She quirked a brow and tilted her head.

I sighed, rolling my eyes. "I will be fine," I amended, "given time."

"Will you?" she asked, her eyes darkening.

_Leaf. _I thought about that for a while. Valar, how I loved him... But it didn't seem like much had changed since I first left Mirkwood, after all. He hadn't even trusted me enough to let me try to explain. "I've lived this long, Arwen," I sighed at last. "I don't think I'll let this destroy me."

She sent me an uncertain look, then glanced at my shoulder. "Aragorn said you were a giant bruise, a walking injury."

"A riding injury, actually," I murmured, somewhat amused. "Put an imbecilic elf in the middle of a battle and something is bound to come up a bit bruised."

"So what happened?"

I glanced up at her, frowning when I saw she hadn't heard. "You knew nothing?"

"If I hadn't been in the room when father told you Mirkwood was under attack, I wouldn't have known—Aragorn had heard nothing of it until it was explained by your friend... who insists we call him Joy." She frowned faintly. "So what happened?"

I took a careful breath, and then gave a mental shrug. "When I arrived it was to stop one elf from being killed part of the way into the forest. I carried him to the tents, and he had his armor sent back for me before I could leave. Thankfully I'd gotten him there in time." He'd lived, but only by the grace of everything holy. "Then I unloaded the other horse, and set them both to work carrying the injured to the healers, and fell into line. That idiot elf of a ruler was on the lines with no guard whatsoever, so I fought next to him... and for a long while, I thought I'd given my life over for his."

"How so?" she asked quietly, frowning.

"Did Estel not explain that as well?" I asked with a sigh. "He was attacked by three at once, and could only hold one at bay. I was down to one blade... but managed to hold them off."

"That's how you were injured?" she asked, eyes widening.

"Yes," I agreed with a quiet sigh.

She got the oddest look on her face. "Thranduil was aware of this?"

"I don't know how he could possibly not know. I fell against him, yelled practically into his ear for the others to come protect him... as my own strength was failing." Slowly I eased myself upright, monitoring my breathing to minimize the pain. "Now, if you would... I think some movement would help."

"Oh... Alright," she agreed, reading in my eyes I wasn't going to give up on this, whether she protested or not. "You're quite stubborn, you know."

I laughed softly. "So I've been told," I agreed.

She led me out to the walkway above the rest of the city, walking with me as slowly my body agreed it could move. Once I was walking as well as I had been before rest stiffened me, she loosened her hold on me, remaining at my side as if still expecting me to fall. I think the guards were wary of me—after all, an apparently male elf came and caused quite a stir in their hall, then went for a casual walk with their queen, who was oddly attentive.

I snorted at the very idea, and turned to look over the city. "How does it feel?"

She sighed softly, looking with me at the land she now helped rule. "I love him... that is all that matters.

Interpreting that for myself as her way of saying she wasn't overly thrilled with being a queen among men and doomed to die but didn't regret her decision, I nodded slightly. "That's good," I murmured, turning to walk again.

Arwen turned with me, obviously considering something since I sincerely doubted her feet were that interesting. "Have you spoken with Legolas since the feast?"

I smiled faintly. "I've been awake twice since then, once for a matter of minutes with Joy getting angry with me, and Estel getting angrier at my father."

She blinked, opened her mouth, and then closed it, shaking her head slightly, letting go of whatever curiosity my comment had evoked. "Joy was quite upset with Legolas when he came from your room. He ranted for a few minutes, which of course did nothing but make Legolas more determined to believe whatever had been fixed in his own mine, and then with a mutter of disgust threw a letter at him much as you had thrown his ring." She walked quietly for a few minutes, obviously not yet finished. "Legolas looked at the letter, picked it up with a shake of his head and was about to cast it away when he saw the seal. Even from where I was I could see his hand shook slightly as he broke his father's seal. As he read his father's message, the anger in his eyes died, replaced by such sorrow I never thought to see it in any elf's eyes, even in such times as we are in. I think even the human servants saw and recognized it."

Some bitter part of me wanted to reply it was no doubt sorrow that he would not be king any time soon, but I knew him too well to utter it, ashamed for even beginning to think it. Still, I had nothing to say. "I've not seen him," I murmured finally.

She sighed. "I think you should talk to him."

I smiled, a weary smile. "I've been trying to talk to him for years, Arwen. Every time I think I'm getting somewhere something happens, and we're back at the beginning, with nothing to show for it except a few more bruises."

Silence held us for a long while, as we made another turn. "He was looking forward to seeing you, Alyeni."

"I wanted to see him," I admitted, "but his eagerness didn't last long, did it?"

"He hadn't known Mirkwood was attacked! My father said nothing!"

"And neither did you, obviously, if even Estel didn't know why I failed to show up!" I took a deep breath and began walking a bit faster. "What does it matter if he didn't know? Couldn't he have trusted I would come when I could?"

"How many times have you run away from him? From what has been growing between you?"

I ground my teeth together and kept walking.

"You're doing it even now!" she called from somewhere behind me.

I turned to see she'd stopped walking. Slowly I walked back to her. "Arwen," I murmured quietly, surprising us both with my calm tones, "I have run. First, because if he'd gotten any closer I was afraid it would be too close, when close wasn't allowed. I was too late, that time. The second time I ran was because he treated me as an utter fool and a child, someone not to be trusted with so much as delivering a sheet of blank paper halfway across a room. I tried talking with him, arguing with him, but nothing worked. This time I ran—but only to help save our home, and instead of giving me so much as half a chance to explain, he assumes the worst and turns into a block of ice. I'm tired of it!" I looked out at the city before us, encompassing it with a quick move—of my right arm, which hurt more than I would ever admit—and looked back at her for a moment. "This is not why you're here, is it?"

The answer shown in her eyes in an instant.

"How am I to convince him of that? That I would be just as happy—if not happier—if he _was_ just another elf, instead of the blood prince?" With a sigh all my anger seeped from my body. "I don't know anymore, Arwen. All I know is it hurts so much more to love him like this than it did to believe I was going to die in that battle, watching as everything in my vision turned to black, the trees—my _home_—burning around me, unable to do anything more than fight for one minute longer in the hope that his father—not the _King_—would be well."

She came up, standing silently beside me for the longest of times without a word. She left only when Estel came to collect her for the meal.

Neither bothered to invite me, knowing I wouldn't be hungry.


	33. No reason

Hey all! Got another short chapter here, and an excuse, if you care to read it. If not, thanks to all my readers/reviewers, and you can just skip on down.

All right. Anyone there? My excuse: I _Still_ don't have a working computer, and I have four jobs this summer. While the work is so far very boring, I can only write on my lunch break, basically, and then only long-hand, which takes me so much longer to do, because I'm used to being able to type about as fast as I come up with things that need to be typed, that I'm three pages ahead while I'm still writing. I'm getting used to hand cramps, though, and I do have several chapters written ahead now... there's just the matter of finding the time to get them into a word document and uploaded. So... expect delays.

And yes, the chapter isn't the longest I've ever written... but it's not the shortest, either.

**_  
  
Chapter 33_**

Since Leaf had left a few days after I arrived—off somewhere with the dwarf, of all people—I was quite comfortable in Gondor for the next few weeks. Joy was caught between wanting to go, and wanting to stay. He liked that Estel and Arwen could work together to keep me from doing much, assuring I would heal… but it was hardly Mirkwood. For some reason he seemed to feel he had to stay as long as I was there.

I told him several times he didn't have to stay, but he would insist he would stay with his friend as long as he was needed. I would usually roll my eyes, but smile. It was nice to have a friend again, one that I'd known longer than a few years.

The hobbits had left before I'd arrived, so I had to irritate Estel for the story of the quest, since Mithrandir had left not long after Leaf and the dwarf. He glossed over some things, his eyes going distant or glowing with flame, but it was no doubt a true telling, showing of his respect for his fellow walkers and his amazement at the inner strength of the hobbits. When he was finished, he sighed softly and shook his head, switching to elvish to exclude the men around us from the conversation. "Legolas thought of you often, during the quest. He would slip off somewhere in his memories, a slight smile on his lips. I watched him when it was all done. He watched the horizon as eagerly as I did for sight of elves… but you never came, and we received no word. Not until you came did we have any idea of what had happened to detain you."

"Arwen knew," I mumbled.

He sighed. "And why she stayed silent, I may never know. But when he speaks to you—as it is his place to do—listen. Remember he knew nothing that would have kept you."

I sighed, searching for some response, when the doors opened to show a short being beaming for all and sundry to see, his much taller companion watching him with a familiar look of amused affection… But there was something in his eyes that made him look a bit… lost. I looked up at Estel, and slowly nodded. "But if you say anything, I will make sure you are the last of your blasted line."

He chuckled softly and nodded, accepting my threat and the sentiment behind it. "This sort of thing is difficult enough without interference," he agreed, before turning his attention to his approaching friends, rising to greet them.

Leaf smiled faintly to him, bowing his head slightly before his eyes fell on me. "Alyeni," he murmured, looking me over, "you are better?"

"Time is often a great healer," I agreed faintly.

"Well?" The dwarf boomed, startling us both. Leaf turned, lifting a brow. "Talk to her already! You've been moping for weeks! Take the lass aside and get everything straightened out."

Leaf's ears tinged pink as I glanced between him and the dwarf. When he seemed fit to enter a staring contest with the dwarf rather than look at me, I rolled my eyes and walked out of the room in no small amount of annoyance, finding my room without hearing anyone behind me. I shook my head, wondering at my own sanity when I realized I'd been _wanting_ him to follow me. I considered packing up and going back with Joy… but I wouldn't run this time. If one of us was going to run, this time it would be up to him. Hadn't he run, too? If not in the purely physical sense, then yes—every time it got hard, he reverted to being a possessive, overbearing orc of an elf instead of trying to find an effective way of dealing with things.

When I emerged for dinner, he quirked a brow at me, but said nothing.

In fact, he didn't say a word to me after that for two weeks.

Finally, I couldn't, in good conscience, stay any longer. Joy obviously had someone in Mirkwood, as he was forever looking homeward, but he still refused to leave me alone. Well, alone with Leaf, Arwen, and a city of humans, anyway.

"Are you well enough?" Arwen asked when I told her we were planning to leave in two weeks, frowning slightly, a flicker of a glance taking in Leaf's silent position across from me.

"I made the journey here," I answered with a slight smile. "No doubt we will be taking our time getting back… But Joy refuses to leave without me, and he desires to return."

"I…" Joy broke off and flushed. "That's true enough. I didn't know it was so apparent, though."

"I've known you quite a while," I reminded with a smile.

"Yes," he agreed, and there was something so sad in that single word that I looked at him questioningly. "I suppose… we could stay a _bit_ longer."

"To what end?" I asked. "I came to see Arwen and Estel marry, but it was too late for that. It is time for us to go home."

Joy opened his mouth to say something, but then closed it with a frown. "Perhaps you're right," he said slowly. He pinned Leaf with a look I couldn't quite interpret… and truth be told I didn't spend any time thinking about it. I was wearied with thinking. "There appears to be no reason to remain."


	34. Where I want to be

Hey! Yeah, I'm alive, honest. I've just got a few little problems--one, I've got four jobs this summer, one which requires me being up by five. Beyond that (I am so not a morning person) I need to spend some time with my family while I can, so I really don't have much time for writing before school starts. It's sad when that's why you want to get to school-so you don't have as much to do.

Oh well.

I'm sorry to those who think this can be resolved quickly. Truthfully, I had the next chapter as the last one, but every time I read it, I felt that it was... passable. Okay. But not good. Something always felt unresolved. I figured out what it is, and sorry again--but they've got a ways to go. Still, I have several chapters ready to be typed up if I ever get a chance--one of my jobs is me sitting there, basically, for nine hours of the day. I read the Sil on Friday, because it was so slow... which is one reason I won't be updating really fast here. Every time I start to think I begin thinking in that sort of language, which just doesn't fit in with this story, so I need some time off. After that, I think things should be pretty smooth--I just got my B-day present early--I'm TYPING on it right now. Totally cool, right?

Thanks to all who reviewed--nice to have you back, Farflung!

**_  
  
Chapter 34_**

We were five days into the journey back when I could no longer resist the urge to look behind us. Joy paused his horse and waited ahead, as I stared at the vast nothingness before me. I would be able to live, I knew that now. I suppose I'd known it even when I'd told Arwen I could, though I'd thought it was possible I was lying to us both then. Yet, somehow, I just couldn't leave things the way they were.

I loved the stupid elf, and I couldn't wait until the end of the next age to talk to him… though I still had no idea what if anything I would say, whether in ten minutes or ten thousand years.

Joy came up beside me, took one look at my face, and sighed, starting to head back to Gondor.

"No," I murmured. "You have to go back. You miss her too much."

He looked at me sharply, then smiled ruefully. "And you love him too much."

"Way too much," I agreed. "If I loved him any less, I would have gone West long ago… if I still lived." Slowly I lifted my eyes from the land and faced him properly. "Tell her she's far luckier loving you than any other fool of a male elf," I murmured as our arms came together.

He sighed, reaching out to clap his hand—gently—on my shoulder. "And you tell him I plan to hate him forever if he does nothing to stop you from giving up."

"Oh, I've given up on him several times."

He smiled slightly and released me. "But your heart didn't?"

"Sometimes things would be so much easier if the heart would just listen to the brain."

His amusement compounded at my disgusted look, but then he turned and looked back in the direction we had traveled from. "Grace be with you… and maybe some patience for you both," he added, smiling.

"Very funny," I growled, sighing softly. "Have a good journey, my friend," I murmured, nodding my head to him as he set off. With another sigh I mentally shrugged—it was still faintly painful to do so physically, the wound had been quite deep—and urged my horse forward. He flattened his ears and stomped at the ground. "Very funny. Yes, I know I'm headed back. It's where I want to go right now. Now, come on."

With a snort he shook his head and began walking. Not with any speed, though, apparently having decided soon I would turn around again. I didn't mind, really. It gave me some time to think about what I would say when I found Leaf.

'I love you' certainly wouldn't do. After all, it hadn't been enough before. But what else was there? I knew no other words, no other way to explain… According to everyone who had spoken to me—I'd certainly never brought the subject up—it was his place to set things right this time… as it was his fault things were so poor between us now…

Somehow, that wasn't very soothing. So it was his fault. Why had he acted as he had? Because he felt he couldn't trust me. Why couldn't he trust me? Because I'd run from him before. Why had I run? Because the only male I'd really had dealings with in a way that went beyond the everyday nonsense was my father… and he was no model to hold up for future reference.

I wasn't scared of _becoming_ my father, I realized in shock, I was scared of getting too close to someone who was _like_ my father.

I closed my eyes on a tired sigh, and when I forced them properly open again I noticed the sun had nearly fallen to its bed. I stopped my horse, and we found a place to rest, though I kept thinking all night.

Leaf wasn't my father. He had never hit me… he had shaken me, on occasion, but so had others. He had tried to change me, but did so merely trying to help me return to what he thought was normal and natural for all she-elves. He had hurt me… and I had hurt him, in kind.

Day broke in a blaze of glory, and my horse set out a bit more eagerly. By nightfall, we'd come to a bit of an understanding… I wouldn't stop partway, and he wouldn't get cranky. Worked for me. I hadn't decided what to say to Leaf, of course, didn't know if I'd find anything in my head when I actually saw him again, but I refused to dwell on it any longer. Being a bit sore from riding, a small bit of pain from my wound flaring up again, I let sleep draw my lids down, blocking the stars from my eyes. Tomorrow would no doubt look better… it usually did.


	35. Fascination

Alright! I have an update for the many, many people who asked for it. This (and several past it) have been written out by hand during boring parts of the work-day, merely waiting for me to get time on the computer to type it up and edit it a bit. While I would prefer knowing a bit farther in advance where the story is going, I guess I can live with it this way, too.

I will try to keep chapters coming, though as long as I'm uncertain as to the direction it's taking, they may not be as frequent as I like, and as you are used to from me... save over breaks and the summer. In other words, expect something added to The Keeper of the Stone before a new chapter here. Oh, and as I wrote this, I couldn't remember if Eomer's name had an e at the end or not... I looked it up and went back through to change them, but if you see one I missed, let me know!

And to those who would say this chapter is beside the point, completely rambling... well, there is a point--getting her to talk, face everything in some way.

**Okay, Review Responses:**

Elvenstar5: Yeah. Once I've written something, it's hard to make myself go back and write it again. Combine that to little free time... this could take a while.

sarah: Thank you! I'm glad some would prefer it being late than thrown together.

Cold-Blade: She is going back to Gondor, because she knows Leaf views her leaving as running away again, when it wasn't, exactly.

plumsy321: Well, I think you're the first one to ever say only update if you want to. LOL.

Jo: Well, I see what you mean... I'm just not sure why you're bringing that up when she's going back. Or was this discussion started before she turned around? I don't remember anymore. Anyway, I agree... it's just hard to force my characters to do something sometimes. It's like they come alive in my head, and simply won't do some things. Okay, not quite 'alive'...

* * *

**_  
  
Chapter 35_**

Waking… was not fun. My horse—blasted creature—was nudging me. Telling him to stop did nothing… Kind of reminded me of an elf I knew. Finally, I wrenched my eyes fully open and began stretching. I paused with my arms over my head, my mouth slightly agape. Realizing that, I shut my jaw and got warily to my feet.

Very close by—and getting rapidly closer—were a group of horsemen. The things on their horses' heads made it clear they were men, had their forms not done so. Their colors declared them not from Gondor… as did their hair, for that matter.

"What business have you in Rohan, stranger?"

I lifted a brow, quickly considering my options. They were friends of Gondor, and I was heading that way, anyway. "I am headed to Gondor," I declared, adapting Tyran without any trouble.

"Your speech is fair…" The one who spoke this time was clearly the highest rank present—according to his decorations. He looked at my horse, lifting a brow. "Do you go for the Queen or the Prince?"

I opened my mouth and then paused. After a moment I let out a breath. "The King would like his son accompanied home, no doubt… but it is for my own peace that I go to Gondor."

"Well… even in these times, would a lone traveler wish accompaniment?"

I offered him a small smile. "I rode from Mirkwood alone… but some company would be… acceptable."

"Your arms look well crafted," he murmured as my horse agreed to go on for the day.

"I would like to think they are," I countered. "If I may… who are you? Of importance from Rohan is clear, but beyond that…"

He laughed softly. "Eomer."

"Ah," I murmured. "Estel has spoken of you."

"Estel?"

"Yes," I agreed, nodding once. "Though you know doubt know him by one of his many other names."

"Why would a person need more than one name?"

"There are many reasons," I murmured with a sigh. "I use three."

"Oh?" he asked, looking at me, clearly startled. What oddly expressive beings, humans.

I merely nodded once more, and we rode on in silence. Being around other horses who were being held to their riders by metal had my horse much more appreciative, and more than a little conceited as he pranced along, seeming to mock the other horses for letting themselves be so treated. I scolded him lightly, telling him he looked foolish.

"Would you ride with me?" Eomer asked, riding ahead. I followed, waiting for him to say or ask what he wanted to. "I was wondering…"

"I guessed."

He glanced at me before smiling. "You are not as… hesitant… as those of your kind I've met."

"Because you have not met my kind. I am a wood-elf, through and through."

"Legolas—"

"Is half, at most, and held to somewhat different expectations." I shook my head, banishing thoughts of what that had meant between us. "Ask."

"Legolas seemed to be rather… quiet… through the war. He did what was needed with very few words."

I lifted a brow. "Hardly sounds like him… Though it's been over a millennia since I've fought beside him."

Eomer nearly fell off his horse. "A mill… forgive my shock, but you hardly seem so old!"

"As I doubt you are the age I would consider you by your looks, for no human could be."

He thought about that for a few minutes before nodding. "I think I see your point… He's not usually so… solemn?"

"Leaf is often solemn… but not usually, as I have known him. He is usually fast to joke, jest or tease. Only when things lay heavily upon him is he otherwise."

"Alyeni." Eomer spoke the name. "He was thinking about returning to her, wasn't he?"

"I can hardly say. Who am I to say that thought was above all others in his mind?"

He was silent for a time, riding beside me. He turned to look at me thoughtfully. "For your distinction between types of elves, you speak like the only ones I have had occasion to know."

"All elves of a certain age may seem… I won't ascribe myself wisdom… so perhaps…"

"Riddle-makers. You know much, but divulge little."

"Secret-keepers?" I mused. I nodded slowly after considering it for a time. "Yes, I suppose that is an apt descriptor." I didn't say it, but I couldn't help but think sometimes it would be better if we weren't.

Little else was said through the day. At nightfall they halted and built large fires to gather around. I remained standing as they ate, stretching down my spine, trying to discretely ease the stiffness from my shoulder.

"You might have mentioned your injury."

I didn't look at him. I had heard him approach. "I could have… but why? It has nearly healed."

He smiled faintly as he moved so he could see my face as I continued to gaze upon the stars. "You were not with us in battle."

"There were more fronts than you were told," I answered quietly.

He sighed. "I had hoped the other lands—farther from Mordor than we—were unaffected."

"_No one_ was unaffected," I retorted sharply. "Even the dwarves will have felt this."

He looked solemnly back at the fire. "Are all the elves as alike as you and Legolas?"

I frowned faintly.

He smiled slightly. "As the first elf I had seen, I spent time—perhaps too much time, in truth—studying him. The fascination humans have for elves is no doubt well known."

My answer was a dry look around the fires, where most who weren't sparring were instead watching me.

"Yes," he agreed softly. "I noted him doing what you recently were. It is a curious way to stretch."

"One practiced by all who have hunted quarry too skittish to allow more movement." I glanced at him. "Did you never see Estel doing this?"

"I don't know who you speak of when you speak of Estel… I did not notice the twins doing that."

"Eladan and Elrohir are much more relaxed around humans than those raised in Mirkwood."

"So you and Legolas are quite alike."

I shook my head. "We are rather different. Our similarities are mostly from having grown up together."

"You did not call him a friend," he murmured softly.

"He has been my best friend, in times past."

"But not now?"

His question brought my head around, a wry smile forced from me. "Again you remind me of the difference between our kinds." I sighed. "Things are… tense… currently, between us." I shook my head. "It was his doing, and he has made no indication he wants to repair that rift."

"But shouldn't good friends be willing to give?"

"Mmm. They should. But our stubbornness is another thing alike. I feel it is his turn—his responsibility—to approach me on this. I will remain as I am until he has done so."

"If he does, will you forgive him?"

"My love for him has not changed. His altercation was merely welcoming my presence with ice and suspicion. He needs merely to speak with me, and things will… ease."

"You hesitate."

"I am not young enough to believe everything will be good and perfect. We can be friends… even if it is barely."

He looked at me for another long moment, and then let his eyes fall away. "You know the sword?"

It took me a moment to switch over to his new subject. I blinked. "I am no master… But I know this blade."

"Would you spar with me?" His eyes sparkled, and I could see this was something he had been really wanting to ask.

"I have never sparred with a human."

"Nor I with an elf," he countered, drawing his sword in response to some sign of agreement he must have found on my face.

The first clash of swords drew the attention of those who hadn't already been watching. I dodged most of his swings, hitting him with the flat of the blade when I could… But he was the better swordsman, and my blade soon fell.

"You use your natural advantages well," he approved. "There is much room for improvement."

"I know. I'm better with the daggers or the bow… but no master of any."

"Is Legolas—"

"A master of bow and daggers, and far better than I with a sword."

He was silent for a while, then smiled in a somewhat cheeky way. "Then I have a proposal—let us improve your sword skills at least to the level of the one you plan to accompany…."

"You think you can match him with a sword?"

"How can I say… when I have not seen him use a sword?"

I had to laugh.


	36. Memories

Okay, another chapter. I promise I am getting around to a confrontation of sorts, but Alyeni is very set in what she will not do, and that's approaching him herself. She's very uncertain, and the only way to change that and make things happen faster would be to rewrite the entire story and change her character, which I'm obviously not about to do.

So, anyway, here it is.

Amberle Elessedil: Eomer is going to remain a friend to Alyeni... does that answer it? Legolas has had his shock--she just doesn't know it. Yet. As for Joy wanting to get back to your sister... as I don't have a name for his lady that's I'm happy with, either of you want to suggest one?

* * *

**_Chapter 36_**

"Oooh… Trees. Scary."

"Fine for you to laugh—you're a wood elf! But the blasted things move! I swear sometimes that they can talk!"

I laughed again. "Of course they can. Few do, anymore, but trees needn't be so still and stationary as you seem to believe."

Another of the men spoke…I didn't know his name, either. "Then it is possible they are evil?"

I frowned, and then shrugged. "Possible, sure. Filled with ill-care for those who come with axes? Beyond a doubt. Mirkwood earned its name… but it is not evil… not truly."

The men looked at me—clearly not sure if they should believe me or not. Finally the one to ask about evil sighed. "I still feel they mean me harm when I enter."

"Ad well they might—especially if they think you mean them harm."

"I only wanted out of the rain… after a short time in there, I decided I preferred being wet!"

I was still laughing and teasing him about his fear of Fangorn when we entered the hall.

"Eomer!" A blond woman I hadn't seen before raced forward. She resembled him—so I assumed it was the sister he'd been boasting about having.

He was laughing, swinging her around before setting her back on her feet. "Good evening, dear sister. How do you fare?"

"Well indeed," she smiled at him. He fondly touched her cheek before she glanced around the group, greeting them with smiles and questions about their families, before she looked at me. "An elf?" was startled from her before she composed herself.

"Alyeni!" Estel called. His eyes were twinkling. "Nice to see you back so soon. Did you forget something?"

I sighed. "Estel, I am really not interested in speaking of this."

"Alyeni… _You_?" Eomer looked at me in shock.

"What? You thought I was _male_?" I asked lifting a brow at him. "Estel, where is—"

"Legolas has been wandering the area since you and Joy left. He should be back soon, since Gimli refuses to miss an evening meal."

Brow lifted, I gazed at him for a moment. "That's nice. But I was going to ask where Arwen is."

He frowned and opened his mouth to speak when she came in. "Is something the matter, Alyeni?" she asked quietly, looking behind me with a frown. "Where is Joy?"

"On his way home to his lady," I shrugged.

She gazed at me hard for a long moment. "Why have you returned?"

"Because I know he sees my departure as running away," I sighed.

After a long moment she nodded once, and motioned to a servant. "See that Alyeni's quarters are prepared for her. Estel saw to the others?" she asked of me. At my nod, she frowned at my clothing. "Really, my friend… are you Alyeni or Tyran?"

I hadn't even opened my mouth when another voice asked, "Wind?" I turned, apprehensive about what kind of welcome I would receive _this_ time. "Why are you here?"

"I thought Thranduil might like knowing his son wasn't traveling alone."

"You left," he stated darkly.

"Yes." I stared into his angry eyes and lifted my chin. "And you didn't stop me."

There was no response on his part… at least that I saw. Arwen took my arm gently and drew me away. I gazed blindly out the window until I felt air on my shoulder.

"It looks good."

"Nearly back to normal."

"Nearly… but you are not healing as quickly as you should."

I didn't comment—she knew why I wasn't.

"Alye, this is hurting you both—"

"Do you really think it's possible for me to be unaware of that?" I asked, turning to face her.

She handed me a wet cloth, and I took it absently, cleaning up as she spoke. "You are aware of it… but you don't show it much."

"And he does?"

"He has been quiet, withdrawn… but beyond that, no. It is not in his nature to do so."

"Nor is it in mine. He because he must not as a prince… I because that's how my father trained me to be. 'Boys do not cry, do not show it if they're hurt'." I snorted. "If his words weren't enough, I was called a baby the day I met them… because I had been crying. They didn't say anything else after they found out _why_ I was crying…" I sighed as she brushed my hair. "It is not in me to display it as you ask."

"Then how is he to know you are hurt by it?"

"Would your brothers know? Your father?"

"What? But… I suppose… Yes, if things were different, they would know."

"How?"

"By my…" She inclined her head. "Well put." She sighed. "Ah, well… something will happen. Until then…" she clapped her hands cheerfully and swept one hand towards the door. "Dinner."

I moved towards the door, stopping when my senses focused enough in the present to discover what she had given me to dress in. "Arwen!"

"No time, we must go!" She chirped, her gown flooding out behind her.

I followed grudgingly, at first, but I had grown used enough to dresses to deal with them. Estel lifted a brow—a stunned 'wow'. I rolled my eyes, making him chuckle lightly before he turned... letting the rest of the hall see me. My eyes went first—naturally, though it annoyed me—to Leaf, catching a small, wistful smile… no doubt thinking of something miles away from us. Gimli's mouth was open, along with several of the humans around us. Finally—not that it took long—I was tired of being stared at. "Yes?" I asked the room at large.

Eomer, I think, figured it out first. He stepped forward and took my hand, bringing it to his lips. "Forgive me, my lady… but I have already admitted my fascination." He added that cheeky smile I'd already gotten to know, making me laugh.

"So you have, my lord," I teased him in turn. "How disposed are you to continuing?" I needed _something_ to do while Leaf put off going home.

Eomer grinned. "I would love to continued," he assured me. He glanced around the table, pausing for an instant before turning back to me. "Tomorrow morning, perhaps? I have already assured Eowyn of my undivided attention for the afternoon."

"Very well. I shall, no doubt, be ready before you."

He laughed, seeing me seated before settling down beside me. "Indeed."

With the cold blue gaze directly across from me—as it had been before when he showed up for meals—I found Eomer to be the same delightful company I had thought during our all too short travel time together. Not that that could have been a biased opinion… Actually, comparing the options for conversation near me… Gimli, Leaf, Eomer, or one of two humans I had already found to be quite full of their own importance, Eomer was by far the winner.

"Alyeni?" the man in question asked quietly.

"Sorry, I was miles away," I excused.

He tilted his head. "Tell me."

"Tell you what?"

"Anything. Everything. What do elven children do?" He tilted his head… making me think of when Leaf was about his age… Valar, were we ever really that young? It was hard to believe.

I began talking slowly to keep from being prompted again as I pondered the disappearance of centuries. "It is different, from Mirkwood to Imladris. I expect there are differences in the Golden Wood, as well. But in Mirkwood, the children spend their days as befits their birth—and I don't mean rank. Females join their female kin in the flets or villages, learn the art of cooking… and such. There is no pressure, no sense that the girl has to be there, learning or working… or so I'm told. When my mother died, my father decided I would go to the woods with the boys." I smiled faintly. "Our days were spent in trees, in races, in games or the river. Leaf talked the stable master into letting us take some horses out, from time to time. We hunted, explored…" I opened my eyes to catch a smile mirroring my own on two faces, with several more watching me intently. I shrugged. "We played, learned, grew… and left."

"Left?" Eomer asked softly.

"Yes," I agreed quietly, feeling quite sad just thinking about that goodbye. Twig had been the first one to reach his millennia. "When 1000 years have come and gone… you are an adult. You leave the forest, and enter the society as one of its members—responsible, capable… " I sighed. Twig had been the oldest, but only by a few seasons. Rather than feel something was missing all the time, we had chosen to all leave that day, remaining close to our homes until our own millennia. I still thought it was a wise decision…Goat always did have his odd moments, even if he was usually pretty quiet.

"Up to the leaving part," Eomer murmured, "It sounds wonderful. How did you get along together afterwards?"

"We didn't," Leaf answered before I could.

"What?" Eowyn asked from a bit farther down the table.

"We never met again… at least as a group. Alye and I have only recently come across one—Joy."

"And we quite literally ran into him," I added dryly.

"Danced," Leaf corrected, his eyes twinkling for a moment before dimming.

The spirit of memory caught me, and I too began thinking about what had happened not long after that. "Yes," I agreed softly. Leaf and I both began "If you all would excuse me—" We then paused. Leaf inclined his head to me. I returned the gesture and finished the sentence with "I would like to watch the stars." … Which, judging Leaf's frown, was what he was going to say. I was out of caring for his reply, though, and made good my escape, heading out to the large walkway that stretched out over much of the city.

"I would like to ask you something. If the answer pains you too much, please do not feel you have to reply." When I nodded, Eomer went on even a I braced myself for questions about why my father sent me with the males, or what _exactly_ was going on between me and Leaf. "How could your mother have died? Elves are immortal."

I nearly laughed at the simplicity of the questions. No, Mother's death was no longer too painful to speak of. "We are immortal, but we can die. Battle wounds, poison, or losing will results in death for us."

"Losing will?"

I nodded. "Unlike humans, if we have nothing left to live for, no reason to continue… we do not. We simply fade away."

"What causes…. That?"

"Broken hearts, or so many years that they are simply tiresome. It is not common, but every elf likely knows one who either has faded or came close to doing so."

"Do you?"

"Yes. Several wives died when their husbands fell at the Battle of Five Armies some sixty years ago."

"But some come back from the verge of death?"

"Oh, yes.. If they are given a new reason to live or reinforced proof of an old one."

"Do you know any such elves?"

"Yes. As do you."

His eyes widened with disbelief. "Arwen?"

"Not that I know of," I answered, a bit dryly. As he had said—we were masters of keeping secrets. With a sigh, I shook my head. "I nearly faded. Leaf brought me back." On days like this evening… I really wondered why he didn't just let me die then.

Eomer looked at me steadily for a long moment. "There is much I don't know, isn't there?" He nodded after I did. "How did she die?"

I blinked at the shift in subject, and smiled wryly. "She and my brother were killed by orcs."

"How old were you?"

"Just young enough by humans standards that I wouldn't have been given arms at Helm's Deep."

His eyes grew grave. "Sad times we have seen. Very young, then, by elven standards."

"Yes."

"Do you remember her?"

I smiled faintly. "One of the double-edged swords about being an elf is our memories. They are always there—crisp and clear as they day it happened."

"That could be a blessing and a curse, I suppose."

"Yes," I agreed softly. "I can see the reflection of my own smile in her eyes as she laughed at my brother's antics. I can smell the food she had prepared for us. I hear Lyran teasing me, feel the weight of his arm around me as he joyously explains all he will do when he entered the wood. I can also see the shock being replaced by horror in her eyes. Can smell the putrid breath of the orcs that taunted us. Can feel the weight of my own limbs rendering me immobile when Mother yelled for us to run." The rest of the memories came, but I lost my voice.

Warmth—like a fire—was around me, seeping into my back. He rested his hands on my arms, the only part of him actually touching me. "For years I have been curious about the elves. On occasion, I have dreamed of other blood. Now I see the wisdom behind my humanity. I could not have endured that."

"Your parents died."

"Yes, but not in front of my eyes. My memories of them have faded so much I think of them merely with vague longing for something that might have been."

I smiled faintly. "It is more our own views on our own situations. I would say I prefer to have the good memories as clear as can be, even at the cost of the bad ones."

"But don't you ever get nightmares?"

"What?"

He gave me a dry look out of the corner of his eyes that said 'apparently not.' "Bad dreams. Twisted and bizarre things, grotesque events that scare you as you sleep."

I shook my head. "Elven dreams are memories. I have had times where those memories come into my dreams as if to torment me, replaying that which pains me throughout my rest."

"That might be worse," he murmured by my ear. "To recall it perfectly, endlessly."

"Better that than to be hurt and haunted by that which has never and likely would never happen."

"Mmm." He laughed softly. "Well, my lady, I think I shall forever be content to be a mere mortal. Not for anything would I endure immortality such as yours."

"We are quite different, aren't we?" I mused. "And I would not like to be mortal—all of my years spent before I fully opened my eyes."

He smiled, a faintly mocking though caring smile. "You, my lady, do not know or see everything around you."

"I am well aware of that. I was speaking in somewhat broader terms. You cannot hear trees speaking together, can not speak with them. You use metal to tame your horses—we use words and spirit—which you die too young to fully understand."

He stepped slightly away, and looked, for a long moment, about to speak. Then he glanced at the sky and shook his head. "I shall meet you here in the morning. This mere mortal could use some sleep." He started to leave, before a thought apparently stopped him. He turned back and spoke once his yawn had ended. "Do dress properly."

I rolled my eyes back to the stars, laughing softly when he was gone.


	37. Still a dwarf

Alright, all. Don't know if I mentioned this last update here or not, so here it is: Due to circumstances owing to a bureaucracy (I'm sure that's probably spelled wrong, but you'd probably rather get the chapter than have me go find a dictionary to look it up since this is just an author's note) I will not have internet for a little over a month, and this is probably, but not definately, the last chapter I'll get up for this story before that happens. So, if there isn't one fairly soon (within about a week), you can check back in mid-september for more.

Amberle Elessedil: Turiel it is, then... as long as I write that down somewhere. Well, what Alyeni meant was anyone close to Arwen would know--by the look in her eyes, the slightest hint of something wrong on her face. They would simply _know_ because they know her so well. She's saying that Leaf should know, because anyone that close to her should. As for his change... well, there's a very good reason for that, which should be coming in a few chapters.

Animir: I have thought about it, mostly because I was trying to write a plausible human/elf story way back when, and had to figure out how alike humans and elves need to be. He may become a bit jealous, but that's not really why Eomer's around. Just a possible side plus.

LJP: Well, there is a flashback planned, and Eomer will be with her at the time, but he already knows she and Legolas were together. He knew who she was to Legolas as soon as he figured out who she really was. If you liked the insight, be prepared for more later... I'm a bit ahead at the moment, but still having problems. Oh well. I'll get it right sometime.

Kelsey: They will get there... but I need a little time to get around to that. It'll happen, don't worry.

: Glad you liked it, thanks for reviewing!

* * *

**_Chapter 37_**

"Alye!" Estel shook his head. "For being such a fine smith, your sword skills are—"

"I _know_, I know. Save the last few days, the only instruction I got was from elves of my own age and nearly equal knowledge."

Eomer laughed. "She has improved, Aragorn. Though in ways she shall always surpass me."

Estel nodded with a rueful grin. "Like speed, and grace, poise and—"

"'Ey! I'm standing right here, you know."

Estel laughed. "May I, Eomer? I forgot one you are clearly aware of… endurance."

Eomer smiled wearily and bowed slightly before moving aside. As he wiped sweat from his brow Estel moved to face me. I moved slowly into position, wary of this man who had been trained far longer than my former extremely worthy opponent, _and_ by the elves. "Relax, Alye. You are here to learn."

"And be humiliated by children," I sighed.

He laughed. "Not at all. You know the qualities of a blade within instants… Use that to know your opponent."

Huh? Okay, that was cryptic. After thinking about that for a few moments, though, I thought I understood. Elven minds can work quite quickly, when set on a task. My task was usually blade quality, design. What if I didn't focused so much on where his blade was in proximity to my body? Suddenly, it was much easier. _Much_ easier. I didn't have to dodge nearly as often because I could read him—his movements—to know where my sword needed to go.

"_Now_ you're improving," Eomer exclaimed, lifting a brow. "What did you do?"

Estel smiled. "Got her to watch, rather than merely react. It's how I was started."

"What, no step-by-step instructions?"

"Not for the sword, Alye. As it is used, it is less of an art."

"Perhaps in war, but I've seen Glorfindel practice."

Estel chuckled softly. "He has it down to pure art," he agreed softly. "If I had his years, I might aspire to such. All I was taught was to use the sword efficiently, so I can fight without tiring far longer than most humans."

"Because to tire out so quickly certainly wouldn't do."

He rolled his eyes. "Alye, you are…"

"Mmm." Eomer agreed. "When you figure it out, do let me know." He drew his sword again. "Come again. Let me see if you improve with _this_ mere mortal."

After a few minutes, it was, for the first time, _his_ sword to clatter to the stones.

"Didn't know you used a sword, lad."

I stilled in surprise for a moment before laughing. "Gimli," I couldn't find anything to say for a long moment. "I can assure you, Leaf does use a sword, when the occasion calls for it."

I turned, making him blink. "You're—"

"Not who you thought I was?" I suggested.

He grunted. "Well, it's not like you dress properly."

"And how would you know? How many female Mirkwood elves do you know? Wood-elves, mind."

He blinked at me and finally snorted, turning slightly aside. "So where is the Elf?"

I considered asking him which one, but decided against it. "Sorry, but I don't know where he is. I would guess somewhere high."

"What is it with you blasted wood-elves and trees?" he huffed, glancing wildly around.

I smirked. "You answered your own question."

He looked rather startled, then disgruntled. He also looked at a loss.

I took pity on him. "Cheer up. He'll wander back sometime."

He offered me a glare.

Eomer and Estel had left for lunch. Gimli had already come from it—as the crumbs in his beard attested. I pulled a somewhat… well, mangled, to put it mildly, piece of waybread out from a pocket, nibbling on it while considering my options.

After much deliberation—until the bite was gone—I decided to explore the mountains. There had to be ways to avoid anyone else—namely Leaf—while I looked around. I dusted my hands and observed Estel's home, looking for an easy way up the rocky cliff. I wasn't instantly aware of being followed. No, I'd gone about six steps before I noticed. I decided he could follow, if he could keep up. I guess he just needed an elf to follow.

His breathing was soon loud enough to be heard far enough that I wouldn't want to be headed into danger with him at my heels.

A light laugh came from the stones a bit ahead of us. "You still fail to walk silently, friend Gimli."

"I am still a dwarf, you blasted elf! Come out where I can see you!"

With another soft laugh Leaf bounded into view. "Now Gimli, an elf—" He stilled when he saw me, the crooked grin falling from his lips.

"Would escape notice?" I offered quietly. "You forgot something." I tilted my head at the dwarf and passed him.

"Where are you off to, lass?"

"To explore," I murmured, glancing back.

"As we are, no doubt," he grunted, looking between me and Leaf. I think he was trying to assure himself that from a distance or behind we could be mistaken… as long as I was dressed as Tyran.

I considered taking him up on it for a moment… but then I considered what it would likely be like. Leaf had barely spoken _in my presence_ since I first arrived from Mirkwood. With Gimli—the thought caused a sharp ache in my gut—he was as free as he had been with Tyran. "I wouldn't want to spoil your day, Gimli," I said instead, finally taking the steps that put me out of sight.


	38. Rather than here

Yeah, it's coming soon. I just haven't gotten it quite right, so you have to settle for a flashback for this chapter. I think it's a bit cute, but seeing them at that age is kind of fun. I don't think there were any questions--so, on to the chapter!

* * *

**_Chapter 38_**

_"Morning!" Leaf called up as he pulled himself into the branches. _

_"Good morning," Joy replied, along with the normal general chorus of 'Hmi'. "Have you seen Trip and Fall?"_

_Leaf opened his mouth only to grin an instant later. Twig snickered at the thumps. _

_"Fall!"_

_"You tripped me!"_

_"I did not!"_

_"Good morning, you guys!"_

_"Morning, Joy," they grumbled back. Their golden heads popped up into the middle of the tree, where the branches formed a platform of sorts which we enjoyed quite often._

_"Where to today?" Goat asked, a bit of meadow grass between his teeth, being slowly drawn in until he spit the entire piece away. He offered us a chance at one of the others he had brought along, and many of us were soon chewing the stalks, drawing the tangy sugars out. _

_"Swimming?" Trip offered._

_Noncommittal murmurs greeted that idea. _

_"We could go into the grasses," Hare suggested._

_We all stopped chewing to give him a disapproving glance. He squeaked and ducked down, his ears glowing. We had been run back into the woods the last time we went out there, and it was not an experience we were willing to repeat quickly. _

_"We could look for a cave to explore."_

_Slow smiles broke out. "Not a bad idea, Smudge," Twig murmured, looking down. "Maybe we'll find some unknown entrance to the halls."_

_Leaf snorted. "Doubtful."_

_Several shrugs greeted his comment. _

_"Well? Shall we be off?"_

_We swarmed down the tree, jumping when we were close enough for a safe landing… except for Trip and Fall, of course._

_After several playful fights which turned into wrestling matches and sword play—with sticks, since we weren't allowed real weapons—we were nearly to the part of the forest where a few caves could be found, if you were of keen enough eyes. _

_Leaf and Hare suddenly stopped. Their words died and their feet stopped moving. A moment later, I knew why as an eerie feeling tickled the hairs at the back of my neck. _

_"Guys?" Twig asked._

_Hare shrugged, uneasy. Leaf paused before shaking his head. "I don't know what it is—"_

_"I do," I cut in, my stomach sinking. "Orcs."_

_They all looked at me for a moment, no one moving, no one speaking. A crackling grunt was heard from a ways off. "There has to be something good to eat here somewhere."_

_At that point, we had all heard far enough. We all turned to run, but were of many different minds on where to go. I wanted to get back to the tree—it was high enough they wouldn't know where we were. Goat was running with me, but several others were beginning to scatter in their own directions, deciding—I assumed—that home was best._

_"Stop!"_

_Twig's yell made us all freeze—partially because he sounded so authoritative… but mostly because we were amazed he had _dared_ yell with orcs behind us. _

_"Everyone together," he hissed much more quietly. _

_We formed a clustered group, waiting for our next directive. _

_"Smudge, find one of the caves you know goes deep."_

_We all blinked blankly, but followed Smudge as quickly as we could. When we reached the cave, he dove in, leaving us in the light to hope the entrance didn't drop down too far._

_The first thing I saw after I dropped was a hint of gold—someone in front of me. When my eyes began to adjust I looked back and watched Twig drop down to join us. _

_"Let's go," he murmured, shoving Smudge to the front. _

_I was behind Smudge and next to Joy. Smudge was small enough I kept getting hit with old webs, at least until we were in so far the spiders no longer made webs. I wrinkled my nose when one landed on me, and threw it over my shoulder. _

_"Ewww—"_

_THUD!_

_I snickered as the thud turned into two more. _

_"Trip!"_

_"Hare stopped!" Trip whined. _

_"Quiet!" Twig got up, dusting himself off. "Keep moving and stay quiet. You sound like dwarves!"_

_I snickered again, and heard a few snorts from those who hadn't been involved in the collision. _

_"It's getting a bit drafty," Leaf murmured. "We could be in the halls." He stepped forward, leading us slowly._

_"Looks like we're in a storage room," was Joy's not quite accurate observation a few minutes later. It didn't_ look_ like anything. But I had to agree, as his observation was gained by tripping over some boxes. _

_"Mm-hmm," Leaf agreed, feeling along the wall. "So, look for the door."_

_A minute later, after several knocked knees and noses, he was the one who cried triumphantly out. Well, really… he yelped as he fell through the doorway._

_We nearly trampled him in our rush to get somewhere we knew would be safe from orcs. The lights seemed to greet us, drawing us ever closer. _

_Suddenly, something else drew us. A wonderful scent filled the air around us, plucking the strings connected to our feet. I heard someone protesting we would be caught… but who really cared?_

_Soon enough we stepped into what had to be the kitchen. The elves working there suddenly stopped their chatter to stare at us. _

_"Hey, now! What's all this?" One of them asked, wiping her hands on her apron. She looked between us, her frown lightening just marginally. "When the King hears of this—"_

_"There are orcs in the wood!" Leaf burst out._

_Her eyes widened. "Orcs? Are you—"_

_"Of course we're sure!"_

_She hmmed, then looked at one of the others, who scurried out and soon returned with a somewhat imposing male. "Trouble?" he asked, smiling. "Or lunch?"_

_The elf who had taken charge rolled her eyes. "This young elf—" she pointed at Leaf, who pulled himself up to his full height "—says there are orcs in the wood."_

_The guard lifted a brow, peered at Leaf, and then nodded. "I'll talk to my captain about it. In the meantime—" he paused and looked us all over "—I suggest you all steer clear of there. In fact—" he looked at the elf in charge "—why don't you stay here? Have a bite to eat?"_

_We were all fast to take him up on his offer. I nearly tripped over Trip's feet as he took the bench space I'd wanted, so I found myself sitting in a small alcove. Leaf was already there._

_He looked up at me from absently tracing a carving with one finger. "How did you know?" he asked._

_"Know what?"_

_He waited until the elf who brought our food left. "That it was orcs."_

_I shrugged. "That prickly feeling happened to me the last time I saw orcs."_

_"You've actually seen them?" he asked, eyes wide._

_"Yeah," I murmured, lifting a brow at him._

_He leaned eagerly forward. "What do they look like?"_

_I blinked at him. "Hideous."_

_"I know that," he protested, "but what do they actually look like?" He grabbed up his food and began to devour it. _

_I worried my lower lip. "Those I've seen have large eyes, long ears. Their skin is a sickly gray."_

_"From never seeing the sun," he nodded. _

_"It was light enough out today!" I protested. _

_He shrugged. "But dark enough, on the ground. What else?"_

_I rolled my eyes. "They have dark hair, scraggly if any at all. They're covered in scars and mars… and they smell."_

_"Like manure, I suppose."_

_"In part," I agreed slowly, partially in hesitation, partly to chew. "But also like old meat, burnt hair, and metal."_

_"Metal?"_

_"Like.. you know the taste of blood?"_

_"Yeah…?" he motioned for me to continue after stuffing his mouth. _

_"It smells like that."_

_"Blood? It smells like the taste of blood?"_

_"Yeah."_

_He frowned. "That's weird."_

_I rolled my eyes. "Well, you asked."_

_"So they smell like dung, burnt hair, rotting flesh, and metal? Pungent combination."_

_"They also smell of…" I hesitated. _

_"Well?"_

_I sighed. "Death."_

_His bright eyes focused on me before he nodded once. "They are hideous." He shoveled in another bite of his food. _

_I agreed with a nod, shuddering at the mental image of them covered in my family's blood. The picture was driven away when a hand entered my line of sight, headed for my plate. I knocked it down against the table and moved my plate closer to myself._

"You look miles away… and yet like you haven't moved since I left."

I offered him a weak smile as the past was slowly blinked away. "You should be used to it by now."

Eomer studied my face. "Your memories were troubled?"

I tilted my head. "Not so much."

"Then what saddens you, my lady?"

I smiled slightly. "Wishing I could be there again, rather than here."


	39. I could be a star, and be eternally happ...

Alright, I'm back! I still don't know if that's a good thing or not.

I just spent way too long responding to e-mails for The Keeper of the Stone, so I'm just gonna answer questions here before the day has entirely passed me by. I think. Thanks to everyone who reviewed but didn't ask questions, of course!

iria-86: We will get to the 'what more he could ask for' fairly soon...

farflung: Nice to hear from you! Yeah, it's a laptop. There really isn't room for anything else in my room, or car, for that matter. I'm afraid that 'this version' of Legolas is going to seem drastically different soon, but there's a good reason for it. Since this story is narrated by one elf, only what she sees is what we know. Anything else... well, obviously we don't know. So, it's Legolas's turn now, and she will begin to understand things soon... (on to the next review you left) I agree about Eowyn, but I never really understood why she was thrown into the book. She really came across as an afterthought to me. But as for her making sense--you should see the extended Two Towers if you haven't. It helps her character out a lot. (moving on again) Not much to respond to, other than I love knowing someone else thought certain things were amusing never hearing about them makes me wonder if I just have a really off to wall, of overly dry sense of humor. And on, again. From a human view, yup. Way too good. I don't think they really notice, though, since it's the standard. Gimli: poor guy. Alyeni and Legolas are nearly the same height, which is far beyond his, both blond (though her's is darker) and both wearing clothes from Mirkwood. I think we can forgive him this once. I think I'm getting too close to Alyeni through writing this. It kindof hurts to read. (and on we go) Yeah, they recognized Leaf for who he was, which is why the guard took his declaration seriously. Yeah, after reading a few human/elf stories I swore to never read or write another... and then Lunian popped up in my head and refused to go away. When I found out she was half-elven, and able to be reborn... I was lost. I guess you liked it. ; )

Animir: They will eventually find common ground, but that something that just didn't set right when I read what I had already finished the story with hit me, and we have to get around it before we can continue on any farther. I don't think it's much beyond where we are, though.

The Luckiest: I think they're stubborn because I am... but it makes for fun writing, knowing what will make them cave or dig in.

* * *

**_Chapter 39_**

I brought the blades around in another sharp arch, hitting Eomer's side with the flat of one. He groaned and held up a hand. "Hold." After a while, he managed to catch his breath. "Why did I agree to this?"

I lifted a brow at him. "You didn't _agree_, Eomer, you _suggested_."

He groaned again. "I don't know why you messed with a sword at all when you're so much better with those." He took a deep breath and lifted his sword again. He blew the well-earned breath out in a sigh. "Alright. Again."

A few equally disastrous attempts later, Estel cut in, turning me to fight his sparring partner, instead.

Leaf stilled for a long moment, and then flipped one of his blades slightly—the only warning I would get, and I knew it enough to go instantly on guard. The fight was much faster than any of those before. Between dodges I could see Eomer's intent face.

"You'll attract flies!" I warned him, even as I ducked another near hit.

He laughed. "You are very good, Alye."

I heard a sound, nearly a growl, from Leaf before I found myself short a dagger. His were soon crossed at my neck.

"Again."

I retrieved my daggers, recognizing but not understanding his anger.

I also knew that set to his jaw—something had brought out every ounce of determination in him.

He swung quickly—I countered, turning my body to free one blade to attempt an attack, but he countered and attacked too quickly for me to respond.

"Again."

After the fourth rapid round, he snorted and shook his head. "Have you the memory of a human? I taught you more than this long ago."

For an instant I was facing the Leaf I had known, his eyes bright, smile crooked. He was laughing as I picked up the sticks we were playing with.

"Again."

The memory was gone, and I was facing a cold shadow of the one I had known. This elf wore the same features, but the fire was gone. Leaf was gone.

I felt ill. Numb. The world had lost substance and I couldn't feel it beneath my bare feet any longer. I dropped my daggers, and looked helplessly into those cold eyes.

"Again," he insisted.

"No," I whispered. I don't know exactly what I was protesting—the loss of Leaf, the realization of this stranger… or his request to start again.

"Alye. Again." He spoke as if I was a stubborn child, faint lines forming around his lips as he compressed them.

I clenched my jaw for a moment. "You'll have to forgive the misunderstanding," I murmured, keeping my tone as quietly respectful as I could, which was still rather biting, no doubt, "your highness, but I do not care to be a guard in your command. I spar for fun with my friends."

"Am I not your friend?" he asked after a moment, his voice as emotionless as his eyes.

"I had a friend once who looked something like you," I admitted. "But his eyes were almost always bright, and a smile lingered at the corner of his mouth. He stood with ease and confidence. Your eyes are empty, cold. I have not seen a true smile. You stand with all of your own importance—stiff and straight. Please forgive me, your highness, for calling you by my friend's name." I swallowed hard when I had finished, and blinked to clear the watery image of his blank face. Warmth fell over my cheek, sliding down to drip off my chin. As I turned to reenter the halls, Arwen was coming out.

"Everyone come in for something to— Alye?" She reached up, brushing the warmth away. After studying my eyes for a moment she turned me around. "Stay," she murmured, the fire burning in her eyes plenty for me to agree… not that my thoughts were really focused enough on anything to really consider doing anything except obeying whatever command was directed me from those I still considered friends. She marched over to the guys—scaring Estel and Eomer back a step, her fury was so great—and stopped in front of Lea—…Legolas. "Alye was raised to be one of the 'never let it show when it hurts' idiots that parade around in the guise of elves," she snapped out. "As she can't bring herself to respond to what you've done as most ladies would… I shall!" With that declaration, she snapped her hand back and lashed it across his cheek, the force turning his head. I winced as she watched the red print appear in satisfaction. The rest of us moved our shocked gazes from the mark to her furious gaze and back.

When she finished the march back to my side, I managed to murmur "You don't even know—" I was meaning to say that it was him that had caused my unwontedly moist response, but she broke in before I could finish.

"I don't care. Legolas proved himself a fool the first time he let you leave. He's done it twice, and continues to act as if _you_ should be the one to give in!" She continued fuming—and muttering under her breath—all the way to my room, where she paced and muttered as I watched until a soft knock sounded on the door she had slammed a while past. "If you're elven, go away!" she snapped.

"And if I'm not?" Eomer hazarded.

Arwen glanced at me, and deflated, sinking to the chair beneath the window. "Come in," she sighed. "How can you be so calm?" she asked me.

I smiled faintly. "I'm not the one who lost my control, Arwen."

Eomer shuffled slightly in the doorway, looking at Arwen rather warily. "Um… it's dinner time."

"Oh," Arwen murmured, getting to her feet. "Where did the day go?" she mused somewhat absently on her way out the door.

Eomer smiled slightly, after inclining his head to her as she passed. "I figured the last think you would feel like doing right now was sit at dinner, so…" He produced a packet of waybread. "I found where the kitchen help stashes these things you Mirkwood elves seem to exist upon."

I smiled, but shook my head.

He continued as I opened my mouth to speak. "And should you not feel like eating, I thought you might feel like star-gazing." He smiled hopefully.

After considering that for a brief while, I got up with another faint smile and motioned for him to lead. He took me to a small secluded place cut into the rock. It was well hidden, visible from only one or maybe two places in the hall, and had an unobstructed view of the night sky, which I appreciated, as I expect he intended. I found a place to sit and lean back, finally tilting my head up to enjoy that view.

He spoke after a time. "What do elves see, that fascinates them so?"

I glanced at him in surprise, and found him gazing above us with a truly baffled look. "Do you not find them beautiful?"

He smiled gently, shaking his head before turning a soft look upon me. "I find you beautiful. Having lights in the sky is… interesting."

"Lights in the sky…" I mused. "They are much more than that."

"What?"

I shook my head with a sigh, knowing I could never explain. "It is something that just _is_. Like the rocks—how can one describe their voices, the sensation of hearing them… when it is all that is known?"

"You can try."

"Try, and fail miserably. I've been doing enough of that in other areas, thank you."

"Please?"

He pulled that sweetly hopeful look on me, and I fell for it with a sigh. "Think of everything good, and then take the best of that."

"Like?" he asked with a frown.

"Like… your favorite horse when he looks like a King's horse, or when he's running free and wild, clearly happy to be alive. Seeing Eowyn smile after missing her for months… The warm feeling that comes from joyful songs that strike at the very strings of your heart. The pulse of energy and virulence that comes with a victory… Things like that."

"None of the downsides?"

"No. Purely the good."

"Okay," he nodded, eyes shut, a small frown appearing with his concentration. "Now what?"

"Now, ball it all up, compress it, and you have a star."

His eyes flew open. "_That's_ a star?"

"Of course not," I sighed, "but that's what elves see. The symbol of everything that is hope, peace, strength, light… All shining through the darkness to guide us."

"I would think," he mused after a long pause, "that in such a case looking upon them would serve to mock your sorrow."

"No," I breathed, shaking my head. "They soothe the heart, ease the mind. Sometimes I feel like… like I could be a star, and be eternally happy."

"So you watch them more when you're troubled?"

"It is a rare elf who doesn't appreciate them at all times… but yes. Usually the elf that spends the night watching them is seeking peace not found in their lives." Looking up at the familiar 'lights' I wished fervently that I could pause time, so I could spend eternity gazing up at those calming flares.


	40. Fail to trust

Well, I've got another chapter for you. I feel almost guilty for this, but it was time to understand what's up with Legolas, I think.

One thing several commented on was what Legolas was doing at the time, or if he was watching the stars as well. I left it kind of open so you can put your own take on it--but he _could_ be in one of those few places that could see into the little nook, and he _could _have been listening. Just speculating there. That's one really nice thing about writing entirely from one person's point of view--the other characters are complete mysteries unless details are known to the one whose thoughts _we_ know. Of course, sometimes you just really want to know...

Thus, this chapter.

**Review response:**

LadyJadePerendhil: I had to laugh at the image of him dragging her off... but it wouldn't work. This chapter should explain a lot, in that department. He's far from braindead--if anything he thinks too much.

Animir: As long as the school computers work (and school is in session, and I'm not overwhelmed by school work) then the updates should be weekly again.

The Luckiest: Thanks. I'll eventually get done. I've yet to abandon a story I've started posting, and I really don't plan to ever start. This one was odd in that my planned ending just wasn't right, didn't work. I felt... almost cheated whenever I read it... so I changed it, and on we go!

farflung: a busy, hot summer. I only got paid for the manual labor though. Sigh. Well, sorry to burst your little Leaf bubble, but he wasn't there. It was simply a memory of him as he had once been that she saw in that moment. Her Leaf is gone, but she's only beginning to realize that. I totally agree that they need to go back to friends first...

iria-86: Would Aragorn work instead?

bratprincess: LoL. Yup, I got it. Here you go.

* * *

**_Chapter 40_**

There may not have been any stars visible, but I was still enjoying the day. The sun was lazily glancing down through soft white clouds, and a small breeze came through the rocks, washing over the grasses and leaves.

I shifted a little, knowing I would look a bit foolish to any who saw me. With all the free land…well, rock, around me to sit on, I was more or less crouched in a crevice.

And why? Because one of the few trees in that area was growing just beneath my feet, its branches reaching up and shading that crevice so well I could almost think myself again in a forest… were it not for the sharp pieces of jagged rock jutting into my thighs and back.

I am a wood-elf, after all, and not having trees to talk to had upset me greatly, that internal balance between self and nature that I was beginning to see humans didn't need to have… nor did they even understand it. They made me feel foolish when I tried to talk to their White Tree, so I had gone searching for another one close enough I didn't need a horse to get to it and back within a day… and finally found it.

So I was sitting on an amalgamation of jagged rocks with leaf-cut sunlight brushing my leggings. I closed my eyes with a small smile despite my admitted foolishness, letting my mind drift off to the forest of my birth as I began to regain my balance, taking the edge off everything that had been happening.

"Aragorn—" The tired, exasperated voice snapped my eyes wide open, my relaxed muscles tensing tightly. "I do not wish to discuss this farther."

"Clearly," snapped Estel, "but you must speak with someone."

"Why? Am I not _old_ enough to deal with this on my own?" Legolas retorted furiously.

"Don't try it, Legolas—Arwen agreed, and is little younger than you."

"Estel—"

"Legolas?" Estel sounded beyond furious, his voice sharp and stony. "You are hurting her." There was silence for a moment, and then Legolas stepped into view, moving rather rigidly, for an elf. "I don't understand why you won't even _speak_ to her. If you no longer love her, at least _tell_ her that!"

"No longer—" he whirled around, eyes wide and shocked. "Of _course_ I love her!"

"I have not seen you show it in her presence since before the quest."

"She… she didn't come. I was sure she would. Everyday I watched and waited with my heart in my throat… and she didn't come." His head bowed slightly as he looked away from Estel.

"She couldn't. You didn't see the wound. Had I been there I would have tied her to the bed if it was what I had to do, to keep her from traveling so quickly. She ignored her pain, her friends and _your father_ to get to you as quickly as she could. Yet all you can see is that she didn't come when you wanted her."

"Not when I _wanted_ her, Aragorn," he sighed. "When I expected, _trusted_ she would be here."

"Did she tell you she would be?"

Legolas lifted dark eyes. "Well, no—"

"She told Arwen she would _try_ to come. She _came._"

"And how was I to know there was a reason _this_ time? For all I knew she had just decided we were getting too close, and needed space."

"You didn't have a promise from her to come here. If she had not come, would you have treated her so coldly upon your return home?" Estel's arms were crossed, his frown severe. When Legolas didn't speak, Estel continued, his voice chilling. "What if she hadn't come for another reason?"

"Like someone else?" Legolas suggested bitterly.

"No," Estel ground out even as my heart clenched. "Like death."

The world paused for a moment, checked to be sure it had heard right, and then continued on.

"She could have died, Legolas. She could have given her life in his place—and would have, if it was needed. For an elf to give up life willingly, there is love involved." His voice had softened slightly. "She nearly died to save your father."

Legolas's head lifted, taking in Estel's face. His eyes, already dark, looked darker in his colorless face. "What?"

"Oh, the letter didn't mention that?" Estel's voice was pitched so it sounded almost nice, though he was still clearly furious. "The blade went so deep it cleanly broke the bone. I'm guessing she had blood in her lungs, once the blade was removed, though I haven't asked. Even if it didn't go that deep, had tremendous effort to save her not followed…"

I blinked. _I_ certainly didn't know much about serious wounds by the look of them… and no one had ever actually told me… They just welcomed me back.

I looked up at the sound of a few scuffled rocks to see Legolas sink to a small boulder, his body shaking. I started to get up before stopping myself. Estel took a step, but stopped himself as well. "She still bears it."

"What?" Legolas frowned, lifting his head.

"You heard me."

"No matter the extent of the wound, it should be gone…"

"Yes, it should," Estel agreed, gaze hard.

Legolas's eyes closed, his head falling down. His hands lifted to rub at his neck, stilling when Estel spoke once more.

"What keeps you from her?"

He shrugged, not bothering to look up.

"Stubbornness? Pride? Fear? Lack of care?"

"I love her," he protested.

"How much? Enough?"

"Enough that we…"

"What? I won't believe what you say, anyway. Not when you haven't cared enough to notice how much you're hurting her."

A strangled laugh rose from Legolas's hunched form. His head snapped up, eyes blazing so vibrantly my heart leaped—_that_ was Leaf! "Haven't noticed?" He leapt to his feet and began pacing. "_Haven't noticed_? Valar! How could I _not_ notice, Aragorn?"

Estel was silent for a long moment. "Then why do you persist? How can you love her and willingly hurt her?"

The pacing stuttered to a stop, the proud head falling as the shoulders slumped in, making him look much younger and like he'd been scolded and pushed out into the cold rain. "Aragorn… loving each other has already nearly killed us both. That, and the trouble of our—" He laughed faintly, bitterly, "—as you said—stubbornness and pride forced us to be at odds even when we were together. She eventually left… and I cannot blame her for it. You were there for our… reunion…" His lips twisted in a bitter mockery of a smile. "When I left, things were better than they had been before I knew she was one of my best friends. It was a bitter truth I carried with me through our trials—that _if_ I survived, she would be there, and things would be good. Then," he sighed, "the quest was over, and Arwen asked to be informed as soon as she was spotted, and all the fear I'd squashed through the quest, all the worry over what might or could happen, all the sorrow and pain of the burden… all came together as such a desperate hope and longing to see her that I…" He shook his head and cleared his throat. "When she hadn't arrived for your coronation… I was crushed. And then angry, for a good while, even after I found out why, though I would have gladly attacked Joy with my bread knife when he hurt her. But when she _left_… I began to think instead of react, and realized _I_ was in the wrong. _I_ was the one who had failed to trust. Yes, I had been hurt, but by my own expectations—which she _couldn't_ have known!" With a weary sigh he collapsed onto the rock he had used previously, his head bowed between his hands. "Aragorn… I don't think either of us are truly ready for this. She protested that when I was still blind to the truth, and I forced us on. Every time I did, I ended up hurting her."

"So you decided to stop?" Estel's voice was filled with shock and disbelief. I could—and did—sympathize.

"I didn't trust her, Aragorn. Why? I trusted Tyran with…" He trailed off for a long moment, then shook his head. "No. I didn't. My life, sure—that's easy. Our past. But my heart? The thought of trusting someone else with it terrifies me, even though I love her."

Estel sighed and found a rock to rest on. "As the Prince, you have grown used to your title creating a necessary barrier between you and the rest of the world, your father excluded. If you didn't shield your heart, it would likely have been broken, time and again…" He frowned and shifted uncomfortably. After another sigh, he shook his head. "My faith in you is restored by this confession, but you have failed to factor one thing into your decision."

"What would that be?" Legolas sighed wearily.

"You may have trouble trusting her that far… But she has trusted you. You have her heart, even if she fights with you. She fights for you to give her something worth that which she has placed in your care… and hasn't yet gotten it."

Legolas lifted his head, the Leaf I had known there for a brief moment, before he faded. "You make it sound so easy, but it's not." With a sigh he got up and walked off.

When he was out of sight, Estel stretched himself leisurely, easing onto his feet. "Going to stay in that tree all day?"

Had I actually been _in_ a tree, I would have fallen out at his calm question. "How—" I spluttered.

He smiled grimly and offered me a hand up. "You started to get up, to comfort him. I know he didn't notice."

"No," I agreed. Even if he had decided to speak with me… He would not have chosen to do so in such a manner.


	41. Clean break

Okay, new chapter, but I only have ten minutes to write all responses for both stories, so it may be a bit brief.

bratprincess: Sorry, but I just couldn't figure out what she and the tree would say together. I'll let you fill in for them.

The Luckiest: Well, sorry... but this had to happen sometime.

Animir: Yup, it's 'explained'. As for why they couldn't see her... she's a wood elf, who was in (sort of) a tree. They weren't looking, and as long as she didn't move and they didn't look directly at her, she would be hidden. In part by her clothing, in part by her stillness, but also, in part, by the tree. Aragorn knew about her presence only because she moved. He moved to keep Legolas from noticing her, though she doesn't realize that. As for Legolas finding out... who do you think is going to tell him? Alyeni? Aragorn?

Amberle Elessedil: The Leaf that was cannot be any longer, though Alyeni is only realizing that. He's still in there, but Legolas has been forced by centuries of cicumstance and situation to be something a bit harder, more unyielding... Originally the story was going to end with him following her and Joy when they left Gondor. He would have caught up when she turned back, where she instead has met Eomer. I was considering an epilogue to add to that end, but it just wasn't right. And so, on we go!

sarah: Yeah._ Some kind_ of reconciliation.

Lady Anck-su-namun: I thought that was rather amusing myself, but you're the only one to comment on it. Oh well. Maybe we just have odd senses of humor.

iria-86: we'll get there eventually...

* * *

**_Chapter 41_**

"Eomer, what are you thinking? We saw that one from—"

"You have a different perspective, Eowyn, dear sister," he panted, dodging again before blocking, his tone still a bit sharp despite that. "I can assure you it is much harder from here!"

I laughed, losing my concentration long enough for him to topple me to the ground.

"You know, for being so slight, you elves are strong."

"How else," I laughed, "could we endure life with humans around us?" I teased. Through the golden curtain of my unbound hair I saw a hand extended to me. As soon as I took it, I knew it wasn't Eomer's. The fingers were longer, the palm not as broad or thick, and the fingers curled around mine with a familiar, gently tempered strength.

Once on my feet, the hand moved to brush my hair back, tucking it behind my ears without touching skin. Legolas looked at me, his head tilted to one side. Slowly he bowed slightly. "Good morning. I am Legolas, of Thranduil. Your name, fair lady?"

I blinked at him, stunned by the words he chose after he had seemingly ignored my existence for weeks. While I may not be the sharpest elf, I figured out what he was doing after an awkward moment.

A clean break, then.

I bowed my head to him—I always felt ridiculous curtseying in leggings—and offered him a small smile. "Alyeni, my lord."

"Alyeni," he murmured, holding it as he had the first time he heard it. "A beautiful name. Fitting."

"Thank you, my lord."

"Legolas, please. Could I convince you to walk with me?"

I nodded and walked beside him. Finally, my curiosity got the better of me. "Legolas?"

"Hmm?" he murmured, glancing at me. He paused, then motioned for me to wait. He took my hand and led me to one of the—no doubt—many places I hadn't been. I didn't really have an interest in exploring the city, or even Estel's hall. This place had two benches carved into the stone, facing each other. There wouldn't be much space between us, which Legolas solved by crossing his legs on one bench. I turned so my back was on the far edge of the other, giving us a semblance of space to go with the privacy we were afforded. "You want to know why?" he asked wearily.

"I think it's a reasonable desire."

"Yes," he mused, drawing a knee to his chest. I hadn't seen him do that since our five hundreds. It was an unconsciously self-comforting and guarding move. "Alye… when we met in Haradan's shop, we acted as if there had been but a few days between that one and our goodbye. That isn't so. Over a thousand years had passed—more time than we knew each other before parting. Those intervening years are still much a blank. You know who I am, as I know what you do, but the people we grew into… we don't really know."

I opened my mouth to protest, but he held up a hand.

"It doesn't change anything that's happened, I know. I love you…" His eyes grew slightly vacant for a moment, but he quickly shook himself back. "And we do know a lot more about each other than anyone not a part of our group ever could. But it wasn't enough, Alye. We've changed enough that we no longer know how to simply be together as we once did if we try for anything deeper than what we had… Even a closer friendship. I thought… it would be… less painful," he finally admitted, grimacing at his words, "if we tried being good friends again."

I broke the silence after a while. "Do you think we can?"

He made a face. "I think we have to. We can never get beyond this if you always use my name as a curse, if you despise my title."

I dropped my eyes. "I don't…"

"Don't?" he prompted, tilting his head slightly.

I sighed. "I don't despise your title."

"Just what it makes me."

I shook my head. "No. What you make it."

"A shield?" he suggested bitterly, his eyes dark.

I sighed, and thought about all he had said. "You may be right," I murmured eventually. "The name 'Legolas' isn't favorable, in my mind, because it is… not Leaf."

"As I am not Leaf. Not truly, not anymore." He watched me intently, body poised as if expecting me to bolt.

"No," I murmured slowly. "You couldn't be, could you?"

He shook his head. "There is much I am no longer allowed to do, things I have no time for… I am the prince, and have duties to attend to."

I smiled faintly. "I'll have to find a new profession, I suppose. Until I do, I'm as carefree as the—" I stopped.

He smiled crookedly. "Wind," he finished. The smile faded. "Can we?"

I looked at him, really looked. His eyes were much the same as I remembered, but the solemn light they held would likely be present through his laughter, if one cared to look. He looked… weary… and sad.

I closed my eyes on the sight, wondering why I hadn't let myself see it before. I started to reach up to offer him some comfort if I could, but pulled myself back. Just friends.

With an ironic smile I considered the situation at hand—there was more to his life than he had let me see, but now he was reaching for someone. Before, he'd reached with one hand and pushed with the other. If he was going to be open… I would have no reason to want the distance he was now insisting on!

Fool though I knew I was, I made up my mind, though it would likely wind up causing me nothing but pain, as our relationship had tended to do thus far. "Yes."

His eyes lit up, sparkling. I looked hard, and found what I had feared—even when happy, the awareness of his responsibilities weighed upon his mind.


	42. Expectations

Sorry I'm a bit late, but my classes have been very heavy on the reading side. This is my first real moment to breathe all week, and I still have tons to do before school's over for the day.

Animir: You didn't like Legolas for a while? ; ) I can't imagine why...

Lady Anck-su-namun: Well, at least I'm not the only one. It certainly decreases the number of people who will enjoy what we find amusing, though...

sarah: I always knew that there would be depths to Legolas that she wouldn't know--something deeper and more zealously guarded than Leaf... I just didn't know I'd end up exploring it. I was planning to just let her know, let them find a common ground and let it go. But I'm liking this, too. It's a bit more challenging than usual.

LadyJadePerendhil: Well, he's not usually clueless.

iria-86: Definitely true--there was too much pain between them to hop right in.

* * *

**_Chapter 42_**

"Up. Left. Forward. Left. Up."

"For everything holy," Eomer panted, "Stop giving her directions!"

Legolas laughed. "And what am I supposed to do? Watch you fail to teach her anything?"

Eomer grumbled. "She was learning fast enough for me, before you started commenting. Have _you_ ever tried to block two blades with one? When your opponent is smaller, stronger, and faster?"

"Save for smaller, yes. Would you care to trade?"

"Not all of the qualifications will have been met," Eomer managed, wiping his brow.

"True. I would judge myself stronger… though probably not by too much, save for her injury."

"Are you guys done?" I asked softly.

Eomer crooked a brow before handing his sword to Legolas, who let it lie in his palm for a moment before nodding. He swung it down hard, making small sparks appear when I countered. His head tilted, ears deaf to Eomer's protests for his force. "You are weakened still, aren't you?"

I snorted. "It's not like I've been hard at work, Legolas."

"No," he murmured, frowning as he swung again. "Alye, keep sharp. You're faster than this."

"But not faster than you," Eomer protested before I could recover enough to speak.

"Would you care to join us in a race later?" Legolas countered wryly.

"A race?" Eowyn asked, coming up with Arwen, Estel, and Faramir. "Between you three?" her eyes were laughing, looking expectantly at Legolas. "I know who won't win," she teased, glancing at her brother.

"What do you think, Arwen?" Estel murmured. "Legolas or Alyeni… assuming of course that we don't join in."

"While fleet indeed for a human," Arwen murmured, smiling fondly, "I do not believe you could beat any elf. It has been far too long since Legolas and I raced for me to guess whether he or Alyeni will win."

I looked at them in surprise. Were they _really_ expecting us to race? "Um… guys? If we already know who will win, do we have to race?"

"What? You don't want to race me?" Legolas asked, a small smile turning his lips and sparkling in his eyes.

"I—"

"First one to the tree and back!" he called over his shoulder.

My jaw dropped. "Prince indeed," I muttered, before taking off after him. He had just made it a few steps past the tree when we met, his eyes widening as I sped around the tree and sprinted back, arriving well before him. "Foolish elf," I chided.

"Hmm," he agreed, a faint smile turning his lips. "To think I could _ever_ run faster than you. I never have been able to, even when you were weighted down by a dress."

I laughed softly. "You were the one to suggest my nickname."

"And a fitting one," he teased, his smile turning crooked.

"And 'Leaf'! Very original."

"Hey! I explained that already."

I paused for a moment and then nodded. "So you did."

Some of his humor died, as he offered me his hand. "Walk with me?"

With some hesitation, remembering the first time I had accepted a similar proposition, I took the hand and let him draw me through the hall into the mountain. He released me to take the shortest way up—straight up. At the top we looked beyond mortal sight. The ruins of Mordor glared at us, blackened and grotesque. I turned aside, looking instead to Rohan.

"Are you content?" he asked suddenly.

I turned towards him, lifting a brow, asking for an explanation.

He rubbed the back of his neck, and sighed. "Being here. You have friends here."

I understood then. "I have friends at home, too."

"They don't care what you wear here."

"Only those I call friends don't. The humans eye me even more oddly than they do you."

"Strangers verses those you have known most of your life."

"Legolas," I sighed, "do you want a full answer?"

"Of course."

"I miss the trees. It hurts to be so far from them, from home."

"Home," he stated, a faint bitter note to the word catching my ear.

"I will wait for you to decide it is time."

"What if I never do? What if I don't want to go back?"

I considered that for a while. I _was_ content… but I was also a wood-elf. I would not be content forever, living here, among humans and rock. I… I don't know how Arwen planned to do it… but then, Estel's life would be finite. "Legolas… I cannot survive here indefinitely. Perhaps you can—your blood is somewhat different from mine. But I cannot. If not home, then I need some other forested place to be…" With a grimace I glanced up at him. "Why do you deny your home?"

He had been watching me intently, but now he tore his gaze away, staring blankly at the land around us. "Perhaps I do not deny it, so much as fear it." He crossed his arms over his chest.

I frowned at the defensive gesture, and tentatively reached out, placing my fingers over his forearm. He glanced at them, and slowly adjusted his stance. "What is there to fear? You will return as a hero, a figure from songs."

"That will be little different than being their prince, save that I can think myself justified in feeling I at least partially _earned_ the… honor." The way he twisted honor left no doubt in my mind how he felt about the attention.

"Then what do you fear?"

He grimaced, troubled eyes lifting slowly to my own. "That it will not be home." The aging in his eyes I had first seen when I first saw him in Gondor was all too apparent in that moment.

I started to chide him, saying of course it would be, but I paused. "Why?"

"Because I have changed."

"And you think you can't be changed and at home?"

"I think how I've changed keeps it from being home," he countered quietly.

My retort died on my lips. "You truly expect it, not just fear it?" I swallowed heavily, looking away when I realized my voice had trembled.

Long fingers slid along my cheek, brushing my jaw-line. "I expect…" he sighed, stepping around me so he was facing my back. His hands settled on my shoulders, his forehead pressing against the back of my head. "I expect that I will be gallantly welcomed when I return. I expect my father and I will have several warm hours of conversation… I _expect_ I will soon fall into the old routine, as if nothing has happened… as if everything that has come to pass is simply an added title, and no more. To behave like it is what is _expected_ of me…" His hands tightened almost painfully. "And I expect," he continued bitterly, "that I shall slowly go mad."

Considering his words, I could suddenly see it all too clearly. You didn't leave a battle that you entered, even if you lived. Not truly. Especially those battles where there was little hope of victory, or survival. "You trust your father so little?"

"My father?" he echoed blankly.

"He is—in my experience—a fairly wise and observant elf… More than that, one who loves you. Do you really think he wouldn't notice?"

Legolas's body paused, stilling. Then he relaxed, his hands sliding down my arms to my hands. "He would know. He would understand. If it weren't for the kingdom, he might have been where I find myself."

"Is there no one else? No one you believe knows you well enough to see your discontent?" I turned, reaching for the hands that had released mine.

Legolas looked down at our hands, but didn't move within my grasp. "Only you…" he trailed off.

I tightened my hold on his hands. "And I'll be there, with you. We are friends."

The faintest flicker of a smile touched the left corner of his lips. "I am glad of that."

I watched him gaze into the distance again. "You yet fear?"

He sighed. "You are sure that your home is there. I am not… I fear…"

Being alone. Of needing to be somewhere without those expectations, but not having _anyone_ when he found his somewhere.

Foregoing the usual bounds between myself and my friends, I stepped a bit closer, resting my head on his shoulder.

Slowly, as if unsure of their welcome, his arms lifted and loosely circled around me. When they weren't rejected, they tightened, pulling me into a gentle embrace.

"I'll be there," I whispered, "if you'll let me."

He didn't reply, but the hug became tighter, and it somehow felt… desperate.


	43. Keeping found

Okay, early updates all around because I'm sick of distracting myself in other ways from my reading assignments. At least this way I get positive feedback rather than wondering if the chipmonks are going to attack...

Ahem.

Animir: Can't say that I have. Headaches, once in a while, but that's it...

LilAznElfLuver: Now, hold your horses! But you're right... : )

sarah: Oh, wow. I really needed that laugh... I can't picture the commercial exactly, but the image was just too funny anyway. Got me several discreetly amused looks from others wondering what was so funny. It's probably a good thing no one asked.

Lady Anck-su-namun: I think I know what you were meaning... and from one point of view, it's cool that we're out there... but it gets lonely in the void, and people give you strange looks.

LJP: nope, he's not mad, and just glad to have her with him again.

freakishworm: Well, welcome to the story. Glad you like the ironic twists.

Feanin: Well, thank you for the incredible review... just one thing. Is it a good or bad thing you didn't link me with Not A Word?

* * *

Chapter 43

"Legolas, where are we going?"

"I told you I wasn't going to say—so stop asking!"

I smiled. His scold was gentle and good natured—I could hear his smile in the tones, though I couldn't see it, thanks to the cloth covering my eyes. "Blinding me has become your hobby."

"One I enjoy," he teased, pressing a swift kiss to the back of one of the hands he was using to pull me along. "Lost yet?"

"Two lefts and then a right to the cavern?" The particular cavern I meant being the bathing and swimming room I had often used during my first stay in the halls.

A sigh confirmed what had been mostly a guess, though I was getting much better at keeping myself found… or rather, not getting lost. "This goal of yours to always know where you are makes it much harder for me to surprise you."

I laughed softly. "You having free time is surprise enough."

"Hmm. Though I still haven't gotten you back for not telling me Father moved you into the halls."

I rolled my eyes, for all the good it did. Legolas chuckled anyway, perhaps guessing from my expression. "I hadn't accepted the rooms at the time, and there were other things on my mind."

"Like smitten humans?"

"Smitten?" I sighed in exasperation. "Legolas, really! Eomer and I were friends learning from each other about the unknown kind."

The blindfold was drawn down, showing he was shaking his head. "He was fascinated by your race—"

"_My_ race?"

"—_but_," he pointedly continued, "he was enthralled by _you._"

"Considering my background, don't you think I would have noticed that?"

"He is human."

"And my friend. Did you never consider he might have been trying to make you jealous?"

"I'd wondered if you'd noticed that." He closed my mouth by hooking a knuckle under my jaw. He smiled crookedly, his eyes brighter than usual. "I knew he was, but I also knew the looks he focused on you weren't solely for my benefit. Were you human, he would have courted you in earnest."

"If I were human?"

He smiled gently. "His awe notwithstanding, he is a fairly intelligent being. Aragorn—raised by elves as one of them and with some measure of elven blood is one thing, but an average human cannot hope to hold an elf, especially in these days. We are too different."

"They are children."

"Yes," he agreed wryly, "he no doubt found reminders of your age rather off-putting." I started to speak, but he pressed two long fingers against my lips. "We're here."

I blinked. I was looking at a bare cave wall. Well, alright. There was a torch. With a sigh and a roll of his eyes—a very unprincely thing to do—I'd been a good influence—he turned me around.

I swallowed hard when I saw what it was, but couldn't trust my eyes. "Legolas?"

"You always seemed to love it so much," he murmured quietly beside my ear.

I blinked a few times, moving hesitantly from item to item, picking up some familiar things. "Tara—"

"Supplied me with what you had left with her… much of the rest was lost."

I nodded. My flet had been one of many destroyed by the fires. Had it not been, someone else could likely have claimed it, since it had been empty for a few years. I hadn't known until we finally got back from Gondor.

As we rode into the forest, Legolas had grown silent, seeing the damage. I looked up at the carcass of the tree that had held my humble home, and then rode on, wanting to get back to the part of the forest that still sung with gentle life.

It was still my home, this forest, even if I now lived in the mountain. "How did you know where everything goes?"

"I consulted a few smiths." He shrugged it off as if it was no big deal, when in truth he could no longer go almost anywhere without being known unless his features were masked, unlike before the quest when he had at least chance of going unnoticed, nearly any time as long as he wasn't dressed or decorated to match his title.

I smiled, shaking my head as my fingers found the sketchbook with many of my old designs. "All of this," I murmured, "but no customers."

"Don't be so sure. You're well known, now. 'The female smith who saved the King'. They'll come to see you, and the guards will recognize you. Many things were lost, or destroyed, and still need replacing." He smiled softly. "And you can make anything you want—even _jewelry_."

I managed a smile at the tease.


	44. No one of importance

Hey guys! I have a quick breather, so I thought I'd get this up. Don't know if I'll have time to put up the next chapter of Keeper of the Stone, though. Tomorrow, at the latest for it.

Well, I take that back. There were no questions in the reviews, so I'm off to update. Thanks for reviewing, everyone!

* * *

_Chapter 44_

I stopped working as soon as I sensed someone had actually dared step into my workspace.

I pulled the mask off and set the blade aside once I saw who it was. "She let you this far in?"

"I didn't give her an option," he murmured softly, looking around at what had changed since he was last here.

"She's gone for lunch, isn't she?"

He gave me a sheepish glance, before catching his gaze on one of the swords I hadn't had even to the recognizable stage his previous visit. He removed it from its hooks, handling it lightly as he studied the script and design. I had to smile, since he didn't bother to check the weight or balance. "Your travels show," he murmured, tracing a leaf with one long finger. It was somewhat more intricately done than usually bothered with in Mirkwood, but it was still a sign from _this_ wood.

"I know. In Imladris I had to adapt to their style." I shrugged. "And just being a smith, I noticed designs and patterns in Gondor, Rohan and Lothlorien."

"And flaws," he mused.

I grimaced. "Yes."

"Perhaps you could create one for him as a wedding gift?"

I blinked. "Eomer is getting married?"

"I haven't heard so, but it is only a matter of time."

I tilted my head before nodding. "He could use a good one. I can style it enough like those of Rohan for him to feel normal using it."

"If you don't make it heavy, you or I shall have to teach him to wield it."

I nodded and passed him to lay a finished order on Sarith's desk. I picked up the new orders with a shake of my head.

"You don't notice them, do you?" he asked, amused as he looked over my shoulder.

"Not anymore," I murmured, a piece in mind already for each order as I slowly flipped through them… Until I reached the one on the bottom. The hand wasn't Sarith's. "A repair? Legolas, what is it? You don't need to place an order for such."

"There is no hurry," he murmured.

I lifted a brow. "Then why bring it up? You know I'll do it quickly."

He hesitated for a long moment, and then shook his head. "Forget it."

"Forget it? How am I supposed to do that?" Especially now that he'd made a big deal of it. It wasn't like him to waffle like this.

He smiled faintly, and looked very tired, suddenly. He crossed his arms over his chest, and leaned back against part of the wall that remained bare… mostly for that reason.

"What are you hiding from?" I asked.

He blinked and shrugged one shoulder. "The whole bloody court. They still won't let it be. They constantly try to drag every little detail out of me."

"They want to live vicariously, if they can," I murmured as I washed my arms and pushed my sleeves down into place.

"Well they can't," he insisted stubbornly, his jaw set. "It's too…" he failed for a word, but I knew what he meant. What had happened had changed him. Not so much he was unrecognizable, nor even so much most would notice, but he knew. Explaining that change would require giving them a large part of himself, a glimpse into his soul.

It was easy to see why he wasn't eager to do that. I reached up and brushed a piece of his hair back from his downcast eyes. "It will pass."

"In time," he sighed in agreement. He offered me a faint smile, before pushing a hand through my hair, taking the tie from those pieces that had decided to go against the majority and remain in place.

I smiled ruefully and finger-combed my hair while he tied his own back at his neck with the pilfered tie. "Lunch?"

"That was the plan," he agreed, even as he turned his cloak so the inside was out. A few moments later, his clothes were bereft of identifying marks, and with his hood up it was unlikely anyone would notice him.

"If the cloak the Lady gave you wasn't so _recognizable_…"

"I know," he groaned, pulling my cloak down for me. "Come on. Tara's waiting."

"Only because you couldn't decide if you wanted something fixed or not."

He smiled ruefully. "Yes, well…"

We made our way to Tara's silently, partly because there was nothing that needed saying, but mostly in a somewhat respectful way, as many of the trees in our path had burned.

Taradriel was waiting, as Legolas had said, at the base of her tree. The tree itself wasn't quite what it had been before. Many of the Eastern branches had been kissed by the flames, sinking deep into the core. A few had fallen, but some remained, clinging tenaciously to life.

"It looks finished," I observed, looking up at the new wood in place on the lower and Eastern parts of her flet.

"It is," Taradriel beamed, ushering us up into it. "The new supports were the most difficult, I'm told."

"I'd imagine so," Legolas agreed, studying the new planks. He gave a satisfied nod. "It will be fine, even when those branches give way."

"That _was_ the idea," I remarked dryly.

He looked at me, then shook his head and smiled. "I _know_, Alyeni."

"And I thank you for it," Taradriel murmured earnestly. She smiled faintly when I lifted a brow in question, but didn't answer.

My glance at Legolas provided similar results… or rather, lack of results. He laughed softly when I sighed, reaching up to brush my hair behind my ear. "Come on. I think there was a request for food?"

Tara jumped up from her seat and was promptly moving us to the table. "Yes, indeed," she chirped, placing the food down before us. While we ate, she talked about all of the elves whose homes had not been—or could not be—repaired.

Legolas's interest was clear, his questions concerned. I had to wonder if this was how Thranduil always seemed to know just where his aid was needed most.

He stopped suddenly, and grimaced. "Sarith is going to be furious."

Glancing outside, I winced. "Yes, she certainly will be," I sighed.

"Shall we race back?"

I lifted a brow. "I'll run… but we know who wins the races."

He smiled crookedly. "So we do. We're off, then. Thank you, Tara," he inclined his head to her.

Tara shrugged it off, wishing us both a good day. "Mind you drop by once in a while, Alye!"

"You can come see me as well!" I retorted, already on the ground. I refused to feel guilty for not visiting every few days when she hadn't entered the halls once. I didn't wait for her reply, catching up with Legolas easily, which earned me a look of some amused aggravation.

When we entered the halls, Legolas pulled me down a passage I had never noticed was there, which cut several minutes off of our trip.

"I can find it from here," I murmured.

He hesitated a moment, and then shook his head. "I'll see you back."

I lifted a brow but didn't say anything else. When we entered my shop, Sarith was there, her arms sternly crossed, her lips compressed, the toes of one foot tapping the ground irritably. "Good afternoon, Sarith," I murmured, moving towards the working area of my workshop.

"_Late_ afternoon," she insisted, glaring crossly at me.

"So it is," I agreed, before glancing up at Legolas.

His eyes strayed to the signs of his title he had left on my table. He cautiously moved forward a step, and was immediately pinned by Sarith's daggered gaze. "And _who_ are _you_?" she snipped.

"One of Alye's—"

"Well, you mustn't keep her from work. Alyeni," she murmured, turning to fix me with a disappointed glare, "I've told you time and again you're just a curiosity to them."

"Them?" Legolas asked, lifting a brow.

The way his voice had changed told me two things. One, he didn't care at the moment if Sarith finally figured out who he was, and two—he was on edge. "The elves who come to see the female smith," I explained, hoping to defuse him before Sarith could open her big mouth.

"And then to ask her to join them for lunch or dinner," Sarith added. I could have kicked her.

Blue eyes narrowed and darkened. "Oh?"

Oh, great. I wracked my brain for something to calm him down before he was obviously jealous to someone other than me.

"Yes," Sarith answered him with a small sniff. "Though you are the only one I've seen her accept."

His eyes lightened fractionally, a good bit of the tension leaving him. "Alye?"

"Hmm?"

"Do they bother you?"

I shook my head. "They're easily gotten rid of."

"If they become a problem, tell me."

"And why should she? Who _are_ you, anyway?"

He glanced at her over his shoulder. "No one of importance," he murmured, even as he retrieved that which declared who he was, fastening them quickly as he reversed his cloak. "I'll see you at dinner?" he prompted.

I considered for a moment, then nodded. "Swim first?"

He smiled crookedly. "Sounds good. Meet you there?"

I nodded my agreement, before reaching up to pull my tie from his hair. I rolled my eyes at his pout. "You have your own, Legolas. I only have that one."

"Lost the others?"

"Lost or broke," I agreed, tying my hair back. "You'd best be off. I'm sure Thranduil would like to know all you've learned."

He tilted his head slightly, then grinned and kissed my forehead. "Yes, he would." He inclined his head to Sarith politely on his way out.

I had to turn to keep from laughing at her expression. She was totally limp, but wearing a shocked smile.

"That… he… you…"

I bit my lip and replaced my mask. As amusing as her not knowing who he was had been, her knowing was funnier.


	45. Simple meeting

Alright. Sorry, I nearly forgot to update. I don't have the next Keeper chapter with me at the moment, so expect it either much later today or sometime tomorrow.

Thanks to all those who reviewed, but as I'm low on time again (damn those exams!), I'm only going to answer questions/confusions.

Farflung: Always nice to hear from you, even if a bit delayed. This is going to be an interesting response. Chapter 40: Yeah, you've got it. He was afraid he didn't trust her enough, and that lack of trust would only end up hurting them both more than they had already been hurt. Yeah, as for the unlikely... Legolas is confused, and just consider Aragorn with the better angle to see the tree. He also had less tied up in the conversation. Chapter 41: Yup, she has blond hair. I know I threw that in somewhere... but I can't think where and can't find it at the moment. I know it was at least in the first true flashback. As far as I know, Alyeni doesn't have a meaning. Yeah, that's what bugged me. They just weren't ready for it, and it wasn't time to end yet. Chapter 42: That may be. Baybe Arwen was more or less human. I don't know, but more importantly, Alyeni _wouldn't _know. Which was the only reason I haven't beaten myself up about not reading more. There is one other reason for Legolas to be a bit upset, beyond any PTSD, which must be a bit bad for an elf, considering what they are. But anyway: Sea-longing. Chapter 43: Sorry to disorient you, but it was high time they went back, and I just couldn't think of anything to make writing the journey back worth it. We're dealing with elves, so time is a bit less relevant. And lastly, Chapter 44: She doesn't notice the elves who come in and watch her work anymore. At first she was probably very aware of them, but anymore she just gets so into her work that she doesn't realize anyone besides Sarith was there, so finding all the orders is a bit disconcerting. Legolas wrote the order slip himself, and she was saying he needn't have bothered putting it on her to-do list, so to speak, because she would gladly just push his to the front. And yes, here come Joy.

And thanks to Amberle Elessedil (and sister) for the name of Joy's elf.

* * *

**_Chapter 45_**

"No, thank you," I murmured, not bothering to smile. "I have somewhere else to be."

I traveled quickly down the hall, wondering why the guards had suddenly decided smith or not, I was female—and it appeared to be hunting season.

"In a hurry?"

I smiled and slowed down. "Not especially," I murmured.

Legolas smiled and touched my back lightly, telling me where to turn with those small touches. "Lost yet?"

"Not really. I know we're headed towards the courtyard."

He sighed. "No fun."

"And if you keep showing me around through half-hidden passages, you'll never be able to get me lost."

He smiled, taking my hand to pull me sharply down a tunnel. We emerged in a small garden. "Sorry."

"I figured she would have already left."

I looked up at the voice, and offered my hand with a laugh. Our forearms crashed together. "Where have you been hiding?"

"I've been helping with the rebuilding in the village," he explained. "Leaf mentioned you have a shop again."

"Yes, he got me set up in the halls."

Joy smiled. "Well, I—"

"Malinth?"

He grimaced, but gave a true smile an instant later. "Turn left, Turiel," he called.

A relieved sigh left the elf as she spotted Joy. "There you are!"

"Here I am," Joy agreed. "And I would like to introduce to you two of the old group." He motioned at us. "This is—"

"Um… Malinth… I know you're an unobservant male, though saying that is rather redundant… but that's a female."

"Beg pardon?" Legolas lifted a brow.

Turiel's ears turned red. "Not you," she protested, her eyes dropping from Legolas's. "Her."

"Who, me?" I asked before rolling my eyes.

"We're aware of that," Joy said, smiling faintly. "But we didn't know for many years."

"How could you not?" she asked, mystified.

"Because I tried to appear as male as possible."

"Why?" She crinkled her nose.

I smiled slightly. "Because I wasn't given any other option. Shall I take it you're the one Joy hastened back to see?"

"I would hardly call it hastened," she murmured, before flushing again. "But yes."

There was silence for a moment, before Joy cleared his throat. "Anyway. Turiel, this is Wind and Leaf."

She smiled faintly at me. "Am I allowed to know your real name?"

"Alyeni, by birth."

"Oh," she looked somewhat thrown by my 'by birth' qualifier. "And who are—" She trailed off, her eyes going wide as she clearly realized just _who_ he was. Legolas sighed softly when she flushed again, her hands flying up to cover her mouth.

She looked mortified, and on the boarder of panic. I sighed. "Relax, would you? He's not going to toss you in the dungeons, or something."

She blinked at me, then turned to Joy. Seeing how calm we were seemed to help her. "Sorry," she murmured, dropping into a curtsey.

Legolas sighed again. "It's fine," he motioned her back up. He shook his head and glanced at me. "I forgot."

"Mm-hmm. Bit late now. But you could still do it."

"Yes," he agreed thoughtfully. With a short nod, he removed the signs of his title, then loosened the braids, reaching up to filch the tie from my hair to bind back his own. When he was done, he lifted a questioning brow at me.

"Your cloak."

"Oh, yes," he agreed, taking it off, folding it inside out over his arm. "Did you have anything planned, Joy?"

"Nothing beyond introductions. Oh, Wind—" he turned to me. "How is Tara feeling about the changes that had to be made on her flet?"

"Just glad it's still there," I answered softly. "Well, unless Turiel has rooms here—or you do—perhaps we should ask for dinner and carry it up to my rooms?"

"Rooms? Since when do you—oh yeah. Didn't think you had accepted them."

"If my flet hadn't burned down, I probably wouldn't have." I lifted a brow, and Joy moved back, bowing gallantly and sweeping an arm out towards the exit. I rolled my eyes but led the way, first to the kitchen, where a few quick words from Legolas got us trays of food, and then to my rooms.

Joy looked around curiously, chuckling when he noticed a few things that were obviously of human make. "Looks a lot like your flet," he observed when he sat.

"A disorganized mess?" I asked.

Legolas snorted. "Well… sort of, but no. It's very…"

"Comfortable, relaxed." Turiel smiled and moved to sit down. "You're a smith?"

"Yes," I agreed.

"What do you make?"

"Whatever I'm asked to make," I shrugged.

"Have any examples? My grandfather is a sword smith."

"I…" I paused, glancing around. I picked up the weapons I had traveled with to Gondor, presenting her the blades. Legolas had removed his sword and the dagger he always wore, presenting them as well.

"What, not you?" Turiel asked, turning to Joy.

"I don't generally carry weapons, unlike Leaf."

Turiel gave him a reproachful look. Whether it was because he called Legolas by such a name, or because of some other reason I wouldn't know…

The conversation was fairly mundane, after that. We got to know Turiel while she got to know us. A bit before we would have bid each other good night, a very tentative knock sounded on my door.

The boy swallowed hard when Joy answered. "I…Is the prince here?"

"And if he is?"

He gulped. "The King wants him."

"Did he give a reason?" Legolas asked, getting to his feet.

As frightened as the lad had been before he found out the prince was there… well, Legolas didn't get an answer.

"Legolas, you're terrifying him. Just go see what the old boy wants."

He chuckled softly. "I can guess one thing he wants." He stretched his shoulders before bending to drop a kiss on my cheek. "He keeps asking when I'll talk you into eating with us."

"Asking is the first step."

"I just did," he countered, smiling softly.

"Whenever. I've kind of missed him."

Legolas chuckled, shaking his head. "Someday one of you is going to tell me."

"Says who?" I challenged.

He smiled. "Me." He dropped my hair tie onto the dresser.

"Oh. Well, in that case… no."

He laughed, tousling my hair affectionately before motioning the boy out in front of him.

"I suppose I should go," Joy murmured. "Turiel?"

"I'll catch up in a moment." Joy lifted a brow at that, but left as he was supposed to. "Alyeni… I… just wanted to wish you luck," she finally stated.

"Luck?"

"I'm sure the prince can be extremely intense and forceful when he wants to be."

"Yes… and?"

"And he's interested in you. It's obvious," she continued, misjudging my expression as one of shocked disbelief. "By the way he watches you, uses any excuse to touch you."

I shook my head.

"Well, if you refuse to see it—" She got up in something of a huff.

I laughed softly. "It's not that," I managed, stopping her. "I know he is. I just couldn't believe you were wishing me luck."

"Well… you weren't acting overly interested in return…"

"Legolas and I are trying something—trusting each other before we dive in again."

"Again?"

"Yes," I agreed, stretching.

She frowned. "But, surely after having nearly faded he would have waited a while…"

I grimaced. "Yes, well… _I_ was the reason he nearly faded. My father insisted I appear male, so when Leaf became interested in Alyeni…"

"So they only recently figured it out?"

I half-shrugged. "Joy found out a few years before we left the woods, but he didn't tell anyone."

She blinked, before crinkling her nose. "Guys are so dense," she muttered, turning to leave. "Good night… Wind."

I smiled at her, shaking my head as the door closed.


	46. Regroup

Alright, I'm sorry for the day-delay, but things have been absolutely nuts! And they say this is a break... HA!

juvinile delinquent: Starting now.

LJP: See the end of chapter 33, then chapter 34. Joy leaves Alyeni in Gondor because he wants to get back.

* * *

**_Chapter 46_**

"Well?"

Legolas grinned at my enthusiasm. "Four." He pushed my jaws gently together with a knuckle under my chin. "Saying five will be here."

"Brothers?"

"Mm-hmm," he agreed, still smiling. "And there is still time for the other one to come in."

"If he bothers to reply," I countered, grinning so wide my face was beginning to hurt.

"That's true. He was never big on pleasantries."

"I can't believe it worked!"

He laughed at my exclamation, and pulled me into a hug which belayed his own excitement. "Had you no faith?"

"I have all the faith I need… But I am not totally unrealistic! Who would have thought such an announcement would work?"

He chuckled. "I've considered doing such, on occasion. I figured it would draw a few out."

"But not as many as it did?"

He shook his head. "No. I'm glad, though. If we're to regroup, we should truly regroup."

"Agreed."

"What has you two so happy?" Thranduil grumbled as he came in.

Legolas shook his head. "Father—"

"Go relax for a while," I interjected, stopping the words on Legolas's lips.

"Will you be here?" Thranduil asked, lifting a brow.

"Yes," I sighed. "Until it's quite late." I glanced over him. "Now go on. Take the crown off and put your leggings on right."

He grumbled half-heartedly under his breath, but went through to his room.

Legolas chuckled softly and caught me around the waist, pulling me down with him as he sat. He left his arm around me and stared at the fire for a long time… Long enough for me to drift off.

I came back to awareness in time to know I had missed something that was said as Thranduil sat down. He and Legolas then began discussing the progress of the rebuilding. Thranduil asked me for any news I'd heard that I trusted… and then he declared he was off to rest.

I blinked after him—he wasn't usually so quick to bid a goodnight. "What's with him?"

Legolas offered an absent humming noise in response, so I let it go, leaning against him. I was nearly back in dreams when he tilted his head down, brushing a light kiss over my lips.

I was fully conscious, then. "Legolas?"

He tilted his head, watching my expression carefully. Long fingers gently stroked my cheek, before moving to run along my jaw-line. "Hmm?"

It was clear then, and I merely shrugged the shoulder not pressed against him. "Nothing." I certainly wasn't going to protest if he felt he could handle something more than simple friendship.

He offered me a small smile, shifting us both so I was truly cradled against him, rather than leaning on his shoulder. It felt wonderful. Peaceful. Every now and then a light kiss befell me, sometimes rousing me, but I was pretty well out of it until the large outer doors were opened and a maid walked in with a tray of food.

"Oh," I murmured, stirring a bit. "I should—"

"Stay right here," he interrupted, holding me a bit tighter, forestalling any farther movement on my part. "Eat, and then meet me for some practice."

"But what about—"

"No," he interrupted. He smiled faintly, softening the demand. "Trust me, it's best not to dwell on it. I'll explain that they are to be sent to us."

I considered protesting, but since I had nothing better to do than try and pretend I wasn't waiting, I decided to just give in. I ate, escaped to my room, cleaned up quickly—wondering why I bothered, as I was only going to get dirty again—and dressed in sparring clothes which made me look rather like Tyran once more.

Legolas was already waiting, a sword in hand. I still had trouble blocking his sword with both blades, so he was still taking pity on me and sparing me his daggers.

He nodded after one rather quick block on my part. "Very good. You may graduate to a sword and dagger soon."

Translation: You're doing better, but still not good enough to handle me with my weapons of choice.

I grunted a reply, trying to turn into his swing to cut it short. He let out a small approving noise, before swiftly dropping a kiss to my neck even as he turned so he was once again on the offensive.

That kiss threw me off. It took several minutes for me to concentrate again. I only managed then because he was smiling ever so slightly.

I was so annoyed at that _masculine_ little smirk that I was soon so focused on his movements I was doing better than I ever had against him. He was much harder to read than Eomer, but I could still do it, if I tried, if I focused. I managed to tap him four times before he relieved my blades from my grasp.

He gave me a faint smile, about to say something when a few cheers burst out from the sidelines.

"Very nice."

"I think we can safely guess what they do."

"You know, being focused so intently on a single opponent could be hazardous to your health."

We laughed, our eyes feasting hungrily on those before us. There was Goat—as lanky as ever, though maybe a bit taller, leaning confidently against a wall. Smudge—momentarily immaculate. Trip and Fall… who had grown through the years to look so much alike it took Fall's nervous toe scuffling for me to know him. Hare's ears were tilted that slight bit back, as if listening to something behind him. When Twig walked in his ears returned to normal. Twig lifted a brow before crossing his arms over his chest.

"Well?"

Legolas chuckled softly, sheathing his sword. "Well," he murmured. "Joy is getting married tomorrow. Thought you might want to be here."

"Is Joy the first to fall?" Smudge asked, looking around. When no one replied, Twig shook his head.

"Figures." The statement came from at least three different directions.

"What's he do?" Fall cringed at the looks given him, before straightening. "Well, we're going to stick around, right? So, we're going to find out what we went into."

I had to admit, it made sense to me. I would have told him… if I knew.

Legolas sighed, rubbing the back of his neck. "He's a carpenter."

"Helped with a lot of the construction, then?"

Legolas nodded. "A very large portion was overseen by him."

Trip and Fall nodded, and looked at each other. "We're wine makers… family business." Trip added the last part when we all stared at them. Fall scuffed his toe against the stone tiles again.

Goat straightened slightly. "Guard—western village."

"You moved?" I asked, knowing he had lived on the eastern edge of the forest before.

He shook his head. "Just reassigned there until things are normal again. Then I'll be back home."

Smudge shrugged. "Musician." He blushed as we all laughed. Smudge as a musician… well, as long as he didn't sing. His is still the worst voice I've ever heard… The thought of Gimli's drunken dwarven drinking songs made an amendment necessary. Worst _elven_ voice I've ever heard.

Hare and Twig glanced at each other. Several brows lifted, waiting for an explanation. "We're cousins," Hare finally murmured. "We're hunters for the halls, now that the village population has swelled."

They turned to look at me and Legolas. I mentally winced, knowing he was not likely happy with this. "I'm a smith," I stated finally.

"Oh?" Goat asked. "Well known?"

I shrugged.

Legolas rolled his eyes. "Wind does most of the weapon work for the halls, now. Including these." He motioned at our weapons with one hand.

Everyone waited for a moment. Hare was the first one to buckle. "Well?"

Legolas lifted a brow. "Well what?"

"What's your job?" Hare asked in exasperation.

"Oh. I haven't one." Legolas's calm announcement didn't have time to sink in as a messenger arrived.

"My lord?"

Legolas sighed, lifting a hand. "Over here."

The boy spotted him and scrambled to face him, bowing low. "The King would like to speak with you, your highness. A matter of some urgency, he said."

"Urgency?" Legolas's slight annoyance for the interruption vanished, as did his relaxation. He drew himself fully upright, the ease leaving for a more… forceful attitude. He was every inch the prince… save for the lack of title-declaring markers. "Where is Father?"

"Awaiting you in his study, your highness," the boy told the floor.

I could almost feel Legolas mentally rolling his eyes, before he turned to me. "Sorry, but you'll have to get everyone settled. The rooms should be ready any time they're wanted." Even as he spoke, he was frowning, his eyes clouding slightly, already trying to work out what his father would be urgently calling him for on the eve of a friend's wedding. "I'll see you later," he murmured to me, catching my chin in his palm, lifting my face slightly for an absent kiss.

"Alright. Go on, don't keep him."

The faintest smile touched the corner of his lips before he left, moving quickly enough the lad was scrambling to keep up.

"Well," I started, turning to look at the group. "You can…" They were all staring at me in shock. "What?"

"You… he…"

"Oh, someone spit it out," I muttered, glaring around the room.

"He… _kissed_ you!" Hare spluttered.

"Yeah, and?"

They just stared at me, beginning to look increasingly uncomfortable.

The reason hit me suddenly, and I couldn't help but laugh. "Oh, my," I finally managed, as the confusion and annoyance around me grew. "Sorry," I chuckled, "but you're a bit off the mark."

"Alye?"

"Turn left, Turiel," I called.

She came out, shaking her head with a sigh. "I still don't know how he finds his way around here." She glanced around the room, then frowned. "Where's the prince? Malinth wanted me to ask him something."

"Thranduil called for him."

"He does that a lot, doesn't he?"

"Not usually," I shrugged. "Something must be going on."

She sighed. "Which means I have little chance of catching him." She looked around again. "Am I interrupting something?"

"Only a boring explanation," I dismissed it with a wave of my hand. "Guys, this is Turiel. Turiel, meet Smudge, Hare, Twig, Goat, Trip, and Fall."

Her eyes went wide. "You found them all?"

Her excitement made several brows lift. "Mm-hmm. Legolas sent out a message."

She laughed, then stepped back and looked me over. After a moment, she nodded. "Okay, you do make a passable imitation."

"Gee, thanks," I muttered, rolling my eyes.

"I still can't believe they never figured it out."

"Figured what out?" Goat asked, straightening up. He _was_ taller.

"That the boy you called Wind was actually a girl named—"

"Alyeni?" Goat broke in.

I nodded, lifting a brow.

"Oh come on, everyone has heard the story," he muttered. "And you _are_ a very well known smith. My brother ordered a sword from you a few days ago."

I shrugged. "I don't really care if I'm known, as long as I can keep working."

"Wait a minute…" Smudge blinked. "_You're_ the one Legolas… Leaf almost faded over?"

I winced. "My father—"

Twig growled. "Enough said."

"Shall we take it… yes, we heard about it, didn't we? The girl who was forced to be a guy? Your father was told to leave." Hare looked from Twig to me.

"Yes. Several… _interesting_ years ago."

Goat pushed away from the wall, and lifted my chin with two fingers. "I used to think your features were unfortunate, as they would have made a beautiful she-elf." He stepped back, before smirking. "Wind and Leaf. That must be… interesting."

"You could say that," I agreed, slightly annoyed they found our relationship more fascinating than his title.

Just as I was thinking that, Twig tilted his head. "Wow." He shook his head. "We know the Prince."

I almost opened my mouth to say 'You know Leaf', but I managed not to. Instead I led them to the rooms Legolas had ordered readied for them for the next few days.

"So… you live here?"

"I have rooms not far from here," I answered, somewhat evasive.

"With Leaf?"

Good grief! What happened to subtleties? Then I remembered—there would be none, not in this group. "No, not with Leaf." Or Legolas, for that matter.

"I always figured you would have your own flet somewhere in the wood."

"I did. Until it burnt down." They started to offer the normal phrases, but I waved them away. "I was living in Imladris at the time. All I lost was the structure and the tree, and a few things I didn't care enough about to take with me. Thranduil offered me rooms here before I left for Gondor."

They all looked like they had questions, but I was done! I ducked down a hall and was soon shut safely in my rooms, hoping they would run into Legolas before I saw them again.


	47. Wedding

Hmm... They've gone and changed things on me again... This may not look right, then, when it's up, but I haven't time to mess with it all right now. I'll figure it out later.

* * *

**_Chapter 47_**

It was almost funny to see Joy so subdued. Quiet, solemn.

Of course, it was a solemn occasion, and laughing at him was enough out of place that none of us managed to lose our grip on our mirth.

Eight of the group were currently in the room, as the ceremony began. Thranduil was the one speaking the promises, the words of warning and hope. We all knew approximately what they meant, but the one who might have translated for me was the one of the nine who was currently missing.

I winced at the taste of blood and released my lip from my teeth, before drawing it back into my mouth to soothe the wound. I honestly tried not to fidget, I really did… but I was worried, damn him!

What did I expect, though, getting mixed up with the prince?

With a sigh I consciously forced myself to relax, trying to focus on what Thranduil was saying. Considering I only picked up a handful of possible words, that wasn't easy.

I bit my lip to prevent a yelp when arms slid around me from behind. Bit my injured lip. I muffled a groan and glanced over my shoulder at Legolas.

My glance paused me. Sweat was dripping from his hair, making furrows in the dust that coated his cheeks.

He met my astonished gaze curiously, turning somewhat sheepish, though part of his gaze also hardened at the memory of whatever had put him in such a state.

I found my all purpose rag stuffed in one pocket and shifted myself closer to one of the basins around the room. Some were filled with water, while some flickered with flame. I nearly squished a plant I hadn't noticed as I wet the cloth. His arms tightened around me, holding me still, loosening only when I handed back the cloth.

He lifted a brow. "That bad?" he whispered almost silently, taking the cloth from me. He winced when he saw all the dust the cloth returned from his face with. He cleaned his hands and set the cloth aside, drawing me back against him once more.

Thranduil was still droning on. I sighed and leaned back against Legolas, tilting my head so it rested on his shoulder.

I heard and felt his soundless laugh, and glanced up only to have my cheek kissed. "Bored?" he mouthed.

"I don't know what he's saying… so… yeah. Some."

He smiled faintly but nudged me back around so I was facing Joy and Turiel… or rather, their sides. "He has already finished the interesting parts," he murmured into my ear.

I shivered as his breath alternately heated and cooled the tip. "On the warnings?"

"No, those come first," he murmured, sounding distracted.

I found out why when he deliberately blew cold air over my ear, only to press a light kiss to the hollow behind it. I jerked my elbow back into his abdomen. Now, in the middle of a good friend's wedding ceremony, surrounded by dozens of elves, was _certainly_ not the time for such as that.

His breathed hissed out between his teeth after a long moment of stillness. He shifted his weight, putting himself more directly behind me. He sighed into my hair. "He's almost done," he finally murmured sulkily.

I rolled my eyes and focused hard on what were, in fact, the last words of the ceremony.

The gathering was silent for a long moment, before loud cheers and other inappropriate words and sounds burst forth from the six guys waiting at the front.

Joy's ears turned a bright red, but when Turiel laughed, he relaxed, his relief at her reaction obvious.

"Is it safe for me to let go?" Legolas asked warily.

"As long as you don't misbehave at the reception…"

He snorted. "In that case, I'll take my chances."

I opened my mouth to protest, but he dragged me down the hall to the room with the couple's other close friends, not releasing my hand even then. He dropped into a seat and tugged me down onto his lap. "Legolas!"

He smirked at my recovery, before nuzzling my cheek. "Yes?" He kissed me before I could reply.

By the time my tongue recovered, the room was full, and there was hardly anywhere to _stand_ much less _sit_. So I stayed, listening to the bright banter until the last few days' exhausting length of keeping Turiel calm caught up with me.

I closed my eyes to help myself relax, finding that in Legolas's arms, with one of his hands in my hair, his thumb stroking soothingly behind my ear, I felt comfortable enough to drift away, even without my sight.


	48. Home is where

Well, one of my two reviewers liked the last chapter, and the other didn't.

Ah, well...

Interest in this story certainly seems to have dwendled.

As for updating, I'll update one chapter a week unless they are short--by MY definition of short--and no more. I hardly have the ten minutes it takes to save off my computer, wrest someone's lab computer from them, sign in, log on, upload, respond, and post. Frankly, I'm burnt out on all things that have to do with stringing words together this term, and if you bug me about it, I'm lible to just say forget it until after finals--which is at thepoint in time during whichI won't have internet access until January. So, lump it.

* * *

**_Chapter 48_**

By the time my eyes focused, I knew it had happened again. Ever since Joy and Turiel's wedding, it had become a fairly common and even frequent occurrence.

I blinked, and listened until I knew where he was. Rolling over alerted him to my wakefulness. He glanced back at me over his shoulder, that faint _haunted_ look in his eyes for a moment, until he looked out the window again.

It was always the same. Every night or morning I returned to awareness to find he had come, he had that look. Desperate, longing… and fearful.

Whatever the look was for, I hated it. It was beginning to haunt me.

He never said anything about it, and I had decided the first time that he would explain when he was ready. Since being near me seemed to help, I never encouraged him to leave.

Legolas's head lowered, eyes closed as his shoulders drooped. His hands tightened into fists.

I studied his white knuckles for a few minutes, before pushing myself partially up. My movement brought his head around, which was what I'd hoped for. I held out a hand to him.

He glanced at it, then closed his eyes, a look of pain touching his features for the instant it took him to take my hand. He brought it to his lips for a quick kiss before sliding into bed beside me. He pulled me down next to him, his arms around me even when we were settled.

After a few minutes I eased myself back up so I could see his face.

He was doing that vacant stare at the ceiling again, his eyes closed to most observers, which was fine, as I wasn't most observers. His pain yet lingered, making something twist jaggedly within me.

Whatever it was, it was slowly killing him. And he hadn't yet seen fit to tell me what troubled him. So much for trus—

A gentle finger brushed lightly beneath my lashes, drawing me from my thoughts. His dark eyes were now focused intently on me. He sighed and kissed me, before coaxing me to lie back down. "I'm sorry, love. I haven't known by what words to explain."

Had I been thinking clearly, I would have asked 'explain what?', but my thoughts hadn't gotten past being called love for the first time since before the War of the Ring. As I wasn't, he was speaking before I caught up.

"The first centuries of my life my dreams were mostly memories of joyous times with my family," he murmured.

Though I couldn't see where he was heading with this—if anywhere—that he was talking at all was an improvement, so I stayed quiet.

"After that, they shifted more to times with the eight of you, and remained thusly until we met again… Or, until we met."

I knew what he meant.

"From then you filled my thoughts and dreams. Through the quest it was the memory of holding you all night the last night in Imladris that I clung to… But now…"

I tilted my head slightly, intending to look up, but he kissed my crown and held my head to his shoulder, preventing my movement.

"Now I don't see anyone I know, though my love for them all has only grown." He paused to kiss me once more. "Instead… instead I see what seems an endless expanse of mystery, calling me to know what I cannot…"

"Why not?" I worked loose of his hold, glancing down at him curiously.

He smiled faintly and brushed my hair gently behind my ears, letting his fingers linger on my skin. "It is not something simple."

I tilted my head at him curiously, wondering what it was that I was clearly missing.

He smiled gently, tugging me down just enough for a kiss. His smile quickly faded, his eyes gazing past me at something yet unknown.

After a few minutes, I thumped his shoulder in frustration. "I'm not making any sudden, spontaneous conclusions here, Legolas."

His faint smile reappeared, before dying as he sighed. "I have stood on the ocean shore."

_Sea Longing_. My heart stopped with that thought, but couldn't mount any contradictions. It explained everything—his reluctance to leave Gondor, his time spent staring blindly into nothingness… his reluctance—for a long time—to continue building a relationship with me.

That final thought made me pause. He hadn't trusted me with this… "Why tell me?"

He focused sharply on me, and then sighed. "I tried to block it out. As long as I remind myself why I am here, the longing recedes."

"But will always remain."

"Yes…"

"Until you give in."

He flinched, before sighing. "I shall not, for many years."

I began to ask why, but my mind pulled up images of several faces before I could. Gimli. Aragorn. Arwen. Eomer. "For mortal friends."

"And for a wood-elf I would never wish to leave behind." He ran a hand absently through my hair.

"Then why not ask me to go with you? There are woods there, as well."

He sighed. "But not the wood of your birth."

I blinked. "That's a weak reason—they aren't yours, either."

"No," he sighed. "And I know I shall miss it here, no matter how wonderful the Undying Lands are. But for me the journey would still a longing… I fear it would create one in you."

"You great, hopeless idiot," I sighed. "I left the Wood before to go West."

"And halted in Imladris," he countered quietly.

"Because I did not wish to see my father so soon…" I took a deep breath. "And because… somewhere deep enough within me I wasn't conscious of it at the time I hoped…"

"I would come after you," he finished for me. He watched me intently. "I won't say I wish I had—we did need the time apart."

"It worked."

"Did it?" he queried softly. "You ended up running back here—back home."

"In some way, this will always be home—for us both. Just as the flet my mother bore me in is home yet, as is my burnt down flet. Home is where joy and contentment have embraced your soul. In a short while, Tirion will feel like home as well."

He watched me for a while, as if searching for something. "You would give up the wood to go with me?"

"If it was reversed," I sighed, resting my chin on my palm, elbow propped on his chest, "would you go?"

He was silent, his eyes darkening for a while. Finally, he sighed. "My heart knows the answer—yes… but my head denies things are so simple."

"Thranduil and this wood survived without you before."

He smiled slightly. "I know… but I still don't know that I could leave him, if the longing wasn't wrenching my heart." He shifted, depriving me of my chin rest holder. "I did not wish you to worry."

"Foolish elf. How could I not? You've been nearly as distant lately as you were in Gondor."

He snorted, shaking his head. "Yes. When I thought it would be easier to send you away than try and keep you near. Now…" He shook his head again. "Now even the longing to go West is nothing, as long as you are close."

"It will grow."

"Yes. And I cannot ask you to cross as long as the desire is silent in your heart."

I shook my head and curled up into his side. Sometimes, I really wished there was no 'Prince' attached to his name. It made him think too much. "Tell me about it."

"About what?" he asked absently, one hand combing through my hair.

"The Sea," I murmured back, feeling drowsy as his hand stilled.

"But…" he trailed off, and then sighed. "Are you sure, love?"

"Unless you sneak away, I'm going to go with you… so you may as well tell me what's ahead."

He was silent for a moment, before his hand slid from my hair to rest on my hip. "Not yet, dear elf. I will not leave as long as Aragorn lives."

I smiled faintly when I understood—his blood was different enough from my own that he could resist the longing a bit easier, a bit longer. I snuggled a bit closer to him. "Very well," I managed, as emotion exhausted sleep took me.


	49. Discussions

Okay... all my holliday enthusiasm wore out in the last set of review responses. Still, happy holliday/break for those who get one, and thanks to everyone who reviewed for doing so--I was really glad to hear people are still interested in this story!

Most of you liked the sea-longing, which was very nice to hear. It was hard to decide how exactly to write that without having to pull Legolas out of character (for my story, anyway) to get it to make sense.

iria-86: Here's the cop-out answer. Alyeni doesn't know. So I don't know. Pressed to guess, I would say there had been trouble somewhere in the wood that needed to be taken care of, and things ended up in a fight, then a rush to get back in time to catch at least _part _of the wedding.

Raider-K: Thank you very much: your review perked me right out of my school-depressed anti-writing phase.

LadyJadePerendhil: That isn't, of course a new quality of his... it's just that she's finally seeing it.

freakishworm: The forgiveness began when he finally talked to her in Gondor, but they didn't move their relationship up a notch until just a few days before the wedding... and the last chapter was a few months beyond that.

Animir : Unfortunately, I still have a while on the tests. Well, test. One test and two giant, majority of my grade papers. Joy. But I put that off for a while to get this out, and I feel more human for it... which is odd, considering I write about elves... hmm...

**NOTE**: In case you are one who kind of skims unless it looks like a very good read, or only read dialog (I know that sounds weird, but I'm guilty of it from time to time when in a hurry) _this chapteris several years from the last chapter_. Varith actually states this about two lines in, but I've been told previously to state when I'm jumping ahead. So, I'm warning you: jumping ahead.

* * *

**_Chapter 49_**

My anger was rising dangerously. "No."

"And why not? Waiting around for something to be offered you by the prince? In the last ten years he has done nothing, but still you wait. You should be glad to have any other offers, you being as you are."

"Glad? If it were up to me, you would all leave me alone."

"Oh?" He tilted his head, crossing his arms over his chest.

I snorted and backed up a bit, rounding my work table. "Yes."

"Even the prince?"

"Of course not the prince, nor my friends. But the rest of you I would gladly do without, especially with your continued bids for my time and… _affection_. I love him."

"Does he love you?"

"Does it matter? I love _him_… and I always will."

"He has not spoken to you of making this… _situation_ permanent. If he had, the entire kingdom would know of it."

"He will speak when he wishes to." I tilted my chin up, glaring at this guard in Legolas's patrol. "I am glad he trusts me enough to know I will be here when he is ready to speak."

The grey eyes across from me narrowed. "Does that not indicate a certain disregard for you?"

"Not in the least," I hissed, my fingers clenching. "I suggest you leave unless you wish your patrol leader to catch you here."

He smiled faintly, a smug look settling into those eyes I had seen so often recently. He _wanted_ Legolas to find him here.

Well, fine. I would rather not upset the elf, but what could I do? Throw one of his group members out? I was in very good shape,what between sparring with Legolas and my work, and somuch stronger than most females of my size… but I couldn't muscle him out any more than I could physically move Legolas somewhere he didn't want to go. So I settled my weight onto my back foot as I heard steps entering the outer room, not hesitating when he found Sarith had already left for her flet.

I smiled when I saw him, feeling quite content when I saw an answering smile warm his eyes. His eyes darted over the scene before him, the warmth leaving as his eyes grew deliberately enigmatic. "You are due at dinner with the rest of the guard."

Grey eyes narrowed once more, before Legolas was given a stiff nod.

Once the elf was gone, Legolas tilted his head at me, smiling slightly as he moved to take the place his guard had held. "You're safe now," he murmured, tone teasing.

"What?" I asked, frowningin my confusion.

Long fingers wrapped around my right hand, loosening my fingers. The sword rocked slightly on the table when I let it go. I blinked, staring at the blade I wasn't aware of having grasped until I felt a kiss pressed to my fingers, bringing my attention back to him. "You were silent because he is in my patrol?"

I nodded with a half shrug.

"Silly elf," he murmured, drawing me around the table and into his arms. "Has he been inappropriate?"

"Nothing I couldn't handle. You know I would have told you the moment that changed."

"Yes," he agreed, smiling as he nuzzled my cheek. "But it is my place to ask, anyway."

I smiled while snuggling my cheek into the crook of neck and shoulder. "Hmm."

"Have there been any others bothering you?" he murmured, releasing my hair from the tie that had held it more or less out of the way for work.

"Yes. Several of the guards have been interested… most are quite easily discouraged, and several have become fair friends. Asking now merely for the sake of verbal sparring… and perhaps in a bid to know you a bit better." I kissed the skin my snuggling had exposed, curling my fingers into the material at his waist.

"Hmm…" He coaxed my head up, smiling as he offered me several long, sweet kisses. He rubbed at a smudge on my cheek with his thumb, then tilted his head to the side. "What were wearguing about?"

"I don't think we were," I murmured, not caring enough to try and remember if we had been fighting.

"Hmm…" After holding me a bit more tightly for a moment he let me go, keeping hold only on my hand, which he entwined with his own as he led the way down the corridors to the great hall, where several tables were set up.

His patrol saw him before noticing me, the more vocal member calling to him. "Never thought we'd see you here when you'd disappeared to see…" he trailed off when he saw me. He smiled a bit wryly, looking decidedly nervous. "Her."

"Indeed," Legolas murmured, in my opinion clearly amused… but the elf didn't seem to notice the amusement, sliding back into his seat with a nervous flicker of a smile. Legolas didn't bother with introductions, merely sat down and tugged me to sit beside him.

I was well used to his unexplained actions, of course, so I was well at ease, having heard stories of all of them since they had become his patrol. Realizing that made them all nervous, at first, but they began to relax, at least until the grey-eyed second in command appeared.

I tried not to tense, honestly I did, but it proved impossible. Legolas glanced at me and flickered a glance at the elf, saying nothing.

"Decided to join us, Lady Alyeni?" Varith asked, his gaze upon me cold. The way he hesitated over the 'lady' part made it clear to all how he felt about its suitability.

"I am no lady, Varith," I murmured, unconsciously seeking Legolas out. I realized it only when he squeezed my hand, turning my attention to him. Though I had enjoyed truly meeting his patrol—save the one I unfortunately already knew—I didn't wish to prolong the meeting any longer. "I would like to join your father this evening, Legolas, if you would excuse me."

Legolas smiled slightly, lifting the hand he held to his lips. "Of course, love. I know he greatly enjoys the… _discussions_… you two get into."

I had to smile, knowing that were it not for Thranduil's standing order to the guards outside of his study concerning me, our _'discussions'_ would often be interrupted in the fear that someone was attacking their king. "As do I," I agreed, looking forward to it even as I reached up, sliding my hand along his jaw before catching some hair in my hand, tugging him down for a kiss he willingly gave. I glanced at the table. "Goodnight."

A round of goodnights or good evenings came at me from all directions save one—and if _he_ wasn't wishing me a good night, it just might be one. Leaving the hall I was soon in the section of the old system of tunnels that were constantly interspersed with guards. Those I knew—mostly from orders that they had placed at some time or other—smiled and nodded slightly as I passed.

The two outside of Thranduil's study eyed me warily, sighing as I knocked.

"Who is it?"

"Me."

"Ah! Come in, come in! What are you knocking for?"

I laughed and shut the door behind me, shaking my head at the king. "I was knocking because they already think very little of our _discussions._"

"They should be used to it." Thranduil smiled, then rubbed his hands together. "What shall we discuss today?"

"I can think of nothing," I admitted, leaning back against the door with a sigh.

Thranduil frowned at me, his concern obvious.

I smiled faintly and moved forward, taking the chair slightly to the left, letting myself fall back into it so my head was on one arm, my legs dangling over the other one. "I came with nothing in mind."

"But with something troubling it."

I glanced at him, smiling wryly. "Sometimes, I think you fancy yourself my father."

"Well, I certainly see you as a daughter… though not by blood."

The thought of Legolas made me smile slightly, even as I closed my eyes. "I rather like it… though it feels so odd."

He sighed even as he moved to the chair facing me. "And I wish it wasn't so… though in the end, things will have worked out quite well."

I smiled, opening my eyes. "Indeed. And if given the choice between a loving father and never knowing the group as I did, never knowing Legolas as I do… I wouldn't change it."

He smiled slightly, but he was clearly studying me. "My son has not caused this."

"No," I agreed, knowing I didn't need to.

"Then what is troubling you?"

"Oh… I don't know," I sighed, shifting in the chair so I was curled on the seat.

"Surely you do?"

I shook my head, resting it on one arm. "I have no real reason to be troubled."

"And an unreal one?"

I had to smile as I gave in, knowing he wouldn't let it go. "Varith."

Thranduil frowned his incomprehension.

I laughed. "Legolas's patrol's second."

"Oh. Right. What about him? Is he incapable of his—"

I motioned that thought away. "If he was incapable, Legolas would have removed him from that position years ago. He troubles me because he is plotting something…"

"Plotting?" Thranduil asked, his voice suddenly very different. "What?"

I looked up and found not the elf I had known as a friend since he spent so many of my waking hours distracting me from the pain of my injury, but rather the King, and a very protective father. Knowing that protectiveness extended to me as well as his son, I couldn't help but feel almost like I was wrapped in a warm blanket when I hadn't known I was cold. "I don't know… But he has been approaching me for years, and never more determinedly than today. Instead of leaving when I suggested Legolas would be arriving soon, he looked rather smug and remained—he _wanted_ Legolas to find him there… which suggests a plot of some sort, but I can't discover what."

Thranduil frowned slightly and sat back in his chair, focusing without sight on some spot I wouldn't have seen even if I were looking through his eyes. "Perhaps to split you two up… but…" He shook his head.

"I know. I have made it clear that even if Legolas were to discard me, I would still love him… so I can see no reason Varith would persist in trying. The only thing he may accomplish, realistically, is to provoke Legolas into something rather rash… and what is the point of that? Short of kin-slaying, it will make no difference to the people what Legolas does, and he would never do that, and no one would believe it of him even if he did."

Thranduil made a murmur which suggested he wasn't really listening, but thinking along a line of his own. "If he manages to provoke Legolas into fighting him, he might be able to win a few of the guard to his side… whatever that is for."

"But _why?_ They would not ever be against you, even if they could be turned slightly against Legolas. And the amount they could be turned _is_ slight—they would never deny his right to command, even if they may become a little unsure of his orders on a patrol."

"Whether they would be turned or not is irrelevant, as I cannot imagine Legolas allowing himself to be provoked. Even in your defense, I cannot see him acting inappropriately, as he has long been trained to behave according to the demands of his title." Thranduil sighed heavily, shaking his head.

I smiled faintly and got up, rounding the short-backed chair he had taken, wrapping my arms around his shoulders before resting my chin on his head. "Nor can I. As Leaf, yes, but he is not Leaf. Legolas is a prince, and behaves as such."

Thranduil patted my forearm as the door opened.

"Am I interrupting something?"

Thranduil chuckled. "Not at all, Son."

Legolas lifted a brow and flopped over into the chair I had been using, one leg over the arm as he held out a hand to me. I kissed the top of Thranduil's head before accepting, settling back into Legolas's arms as he shifted them around me. "So you weren't trying to strangle him?"

"Not this time."

"Hmm… guess I came in too early."

We laughed softly at him before a determined knock sounded on the door. "Who is it?"

"I have a report from the western patrol team, sire. They've run into trouble and request aid."

Thranduil sighed wearily. "Legolas?"

Legolas chuckled softly, nodding before sitting up. "I'll see to it, Father," he agreed, dropping a kiss behind my ear before shifting me completely off his lap and onto the seat as he got to his feet. "Later, love."

"Mmm," I agreed.

He tilted his head at me, crouching down to brush my hair from my face. He sighed and braced himself against the chair to lean in for a true kiss. "I'll be back as soon as I can."

"Mm-hmm."

A worried frown settled between his brows. "Love?"

"Sire?" the advisor's voice came from beyond the study doors once more.

"Legolas will see to it shortly," Thranduil called.

"Thank you, Sire."

"Are you all right?" Legolas asked, looking at me with deep concern.

I blinked, then rolled my eyes as I figured out why he was worried. "I'm fine, dear elf. Just thinking. I know you can't help it, and I don't mind. Go."

He looked at me for a long moment, his lower lip held between his teeth before he finally nodded, bent to kiss me once more, and left the room.

"He worries about you worrying about him."

I lifted a brow before laughing. "Thranduil, I'm going to worry when he's gone. He knows that."

"Yes. And he doesn't want you to, anyway."

"Wouldn't it be worse if I didn't?"

Thranduil chuckled, leaning back in his chair. "Of course… but I understand his worry. I hated making his mother worry about me… and it was just as bad seeing her worry about him when he first went into the wood."

I laughed softly, stretching before settling back down in the chair as Legolas had been a few minutes before. After a while, I sighed. "Do you think he'll be okay?"

Thranduil lifted a brow.

"Well… he's out there, with his patrol… with Varith. Whatever that… _elf_ is plotting, he can work on Legolas longer than he could here."

With a smile Thranduil got to his feet. He leaned over me with a smile. "So. Legolas never told you that long ago, he had a very close friend. A cousin he with whom he was inseparable. A young lad whose Lothlorien-raised father refused to let him join in the tradition of Greenwood elves and forced him to remain here while Legolas entered the wood. A lad who Legolas thus grew apart from—"

"The point, Thranduil?"

He rolled his eyes to the ceiling. "Their mothers were sisters. Have you never seen the resemblance?"

"Who, Thranduil?"

"Valar! Think, Alye."

I frowned, but shook my head. "I don't see anything—"

"Varith," he sighed, "is Legolas's cousin."

I shook my head when I was able to think again. "What?"

He chuckled. "You heard me. And if you think about it, you'll notice a few things they have in common—same height, build, the shape of their eyes…"

"I generally noticed the differences."

"And there are plenty. But though they grew apart, I do not believe Varith would truly wish him harm."

Thinking back over the last years, I had to wonder. Legolas had never said a thing about Varith, except as an elf in his patrol, and then sparingly. He had never…

I shook my head. "I don't think he thinks of Varith as a friend anymore."

"No. But he is still his cousin."

I looked up at him with a snort. "Any other relatives I should know about?"

Thranduil shrugged. "He has Varith, but his aunt went west after her sister died. As far as I know, there are no others."

"So one relative… who he never speaks of."


	50. Eavesdropping

Okay, sorry this is late, and answers are going to be rushed: Um... No sequal will happen, because thanks to recent events, things are going to wrap up soon. Thanks to those who liked it...

And since this took forever to work, I'm going to miss my ride if I write anymore.

Later!

* * *

_**Chapter 50**_

From a somewhat sheltered stair I watched the patrols come in. One elf was carried on a matting of leaves held aloft by two elves and a horse, another limping beside a companion who was providing support. The three patrol leaders were talking quietly until the last elf was in, and then they broke apart to address their patrols.

Legolas looked at his elves, quickly inclining his head slightly, dismissing them. He started towards one of the doors which would lead him back to the royal wing, but was paused.

"Legolas."

His head dropped slightly, before his jaw tightened. He spoke without turning. "Yes, Varith?"

"Not going to your lady?"

Legolas spun around quickly, grabbing Varith by the collar, jerking him out of the main area into a small alcove just within the stair. "What are you getting at, Varith?"

"I don't know what you mean, your highness."

"Cut the act." Legolas released him somewhat roughly. "I can't figure your angle. You still know me well enough to know you can't break us up. I'll tell you now you can't make me jealous—I trust her. While I may get angry with you, it's for disturbing her, troubling her. Even that… _why?_ What's the point, Varith? What's in it for you?"

Varith stared at him silently for a long moment, before pulling his collar straight. He looked over Legolas's shoulder, apparently weighing his options. Finally he sighed. "Once I would have lied to you, bluffed you, kept this up. I can't anymore… Not because of your title, but because of what it has made you."

Legolas snorted, looking away. I winced, knowing Varith had just hit a very sore spot.

"Tell me one thing, Legolas, and I'll fade back away into memory."

Legolas glanced back, and the rage behind his eyes stunned me.

Varith sighed. "I regret that, you know." He crossed his arms and looked down at his feet, leaning back against the wall. "Look, it's obvious you love her. Obvious she loves you. So why haven't you spoken? The longer you wait, the more the people will talk. I don't think you want that… for her. She's dealt with enough."

Legolas sighed, crossing his arms. For a moment, with their positions so mirrored, I could see them as cousins. "I know she has," he murmured quietly. "And unfortunately, I will give her more to deal with."

"Then you won't speak?" Varith frowned.

Legolas made a noise low in his throat. Frustrated, short, it was more or less a growl. "I would have spoken years ago if not for what keeps me silent now. I will leave, Varith. I will go West."

"What? _Why?_ You're the bloody prince, Legolas, you can't just—" He broke off when Legolas pinned him with another glare. I couldn't help but shiver. Whatever Thranduil thought, there was a story here, a true reason for this separation between past friends. Varith met that fury with a stubborn pride that spoke of understanding. Then his eyes widened, seeing something beyond it. He settled back a bit, lowering his eyes, releasing his own anger. "She knows?"

"Of course she knows. Has known." He let out a short, humorless laugh. "How could I keep it from her?"

"Uncle knows?"

"Yes. Both understand."

"And your need for the sea keeps you from speaking to her?"

"I don't want to force her to go with me."

Varith looked away, pausing. He blinked and followed my feet up to my face. After I winced for being caught eavesdropping, he blinked again and looked back at Legolas as if he hadn't seen me at all. "I've studied her for years, Legolas, because you love her. She will go with you, whether as your wife or not." He stepped away from the wall, sighing as he tightened his arms over his chest. "I am sorry, Legolas…" He glanced up once for an instant before walking away.

"Sorry about what?"

Legolas jumped and whirled around. "Alye," he murmured, closing his eyes. A moment later they snapped open again. "How long…"

"Long enough to know there is more to you two drifting apart than Thranduil knew… though he knew much more than I ever did."

He climbed the stairs with a sigh, flickering a quick look at my attire before pulling me into a hug. His caution almost made me smile—he had a habit I hadn't instilled in him against touching me when he was dirty unless I had yet to clean up from work. "Come on. Lets clean up and eat. Then I guess I have a bit to say."

"Not if you don't want to."

He smiled at me, leaning up from his step to give me a kiss. "I don't tend to think about painful things in the past… but…" he buried his face against my throat, "perhaps it would be good to think about it."

"You already are, aren't you?"

He glanced up at me, his slightly sheepish glance rather endearing.

I shook my head but kissed his brow. "All right."

He grinned at me, but then retreated into his thoughts, kissing my cheek absently as he left me at my door.

When I entered the royal rooms, he was staring into space, a tray of food in front of him. Thranduil lifted a brow at me, but I shrugged, so he took a plate off to his room. "Eat," I murmured, sitting down across from him. He moved absently, not saying anything nor really seeming _there_ until I got up, snuggling into his side.

He blinked a few times and looked down at me, smiling a bit between kisses. Then he looked up, staring off again.

I was about to poke him when I noticed he was actually looking at _something_. His eyes looked back at us from the portrait, just as mysterious as the first time I had noticed the resemblance.

"It's because of her."

I blinked, looking up at him. For the first time, he wasn't looking away from the portrait as quickly as he could. "What?"

"You know he and I were once close… best friends, close cousins… until she began to fade. I wanted to spend more time here, wanted every spare moment I could get to be with her, or trying to find some way to stop it, distract her." He snorted. "As you know, it didn't work. He… tried to pull me away. Tried to distract _me_."

I looked at the painting for a while, then eased back to look at him. "Let me guess… You were not _appreciative_ of that."

"I didn't really notice at the time. Usually I spent most of my time when at home with him, since I spent so much time with all of you. I didn't think anything of him wanting some of my time."

"But then she died."

He winced, but nodded. "Yes. I…"

"Dealt with it by closing off… until we ambushed you."

A faint, fond smile turned his lips at the memory. "Yes. Here I was much the same. I didn't speak, picked at my food if it was brought to me, stared into space…"

"I can't imagine."

He chuckled softly at my dry comment, tilting his head down, resting his forehead against mine. "The day after you guys forced me to begin truly coping with it, Varith had apparently decided to try something similar to snap me out of my… state. He said anything he could to make me angry…"

I studied him through tilted gaze. "Something hit a bit too hard?"

With a flinch he tore his gaze from the painting. A short nod was rather redundant, after his previous reaction. "He said…" he took a breath, tightening his hold on me. He laughed, shaking his head. "It's not supposed to still hurt like this, is it?"

"What, Legolas?"

He closed his eyes. "He said… said that she wouldn't have needed a daughter, if she had still had her son."

"No wonder…" I closed my mouth and shook my head. It explained a lot—if he had spent most of his time with Varith when not with us… of course any youth would feel guilty for not spending more time with a family member who died… especially in such a case. Legolas also had a habit of over thinking things, which only made it worse. "My poor elf," I murmured, wrapping my arms around him.

He chuckled weakly, but aided me in wrapping him in an embrace, pressing his face to my chest.


	51. Things cleared up

Feeling someone near, I turned, frowning when I saw who it was. "What are you doing here?"

He sighed, lowering his head some, though he didn't ever let me out of his sight. A rather wise move, as he was in my quarters uninvited, and given the time I'd been working again, it was beginning to become cluttered with those weapons I couldn't bear to sell or replicate for the use of others. "I wanted to talk to you."

"And knocking on the door wouldn't have worked?"

"No one was about, so I entered, rather than risk being caught hanging around your door."

"Risk being caught? As in people would think something was wrong in you being in my rooms?"

"Considering who I am, who you're involved with, and that it is common knowledge the prince no longer considers me a friend… yes."

"You really sunk so low as to make him feel his mother's death was his fault?"

He flinched, his grey eyes lightening, turning almost to ash. "He didn't respond to anything… I was getting desperate." The last word was nearly a groan.

Still, I couldn't find it in me to let him off the hook. It was a rotten thing to do, even if drastic measures had been called for. "If your tries were all so negatively aimed, it may well have been that he was trying to ignore you to preserve your friendship," I retorted caustically.

Varith nodded. "I know. Now. But I was still very young… and I hadn't had much time with other elves. There are few adults here who know how to deal with little boys, as they are all—save for me—sent to the wood, only home to eat and collapse into exhausted sleep. He was the only one I had… and I have long despised myself, when I recalled that day, the words I chose." Bitterness dripped from his words, his arms crossing over his chest defensively.

After watching him silently for a while, I ran a hand through my hair, grimacing as a few hairs came away with the tie. "And what do you want with me?"

"I was assuming he told you what happened—" he snorted. "Now I know he did. I just… wanted to be sure you were going to help him finally deal with what I said."

"Varith," I shook my head. "Legolas and I are close, but I don't really know what he's thinking. There are times when it's obvious, at least to one who knows him well… but being who he is, who he has to be, has made him think about things in ways I probably never shall. He sees not only how something affects him, but how it affects everyone and everything else around him. He plans where most are content to let time sort things out. He considers all the ins and outs, all the possibilities and inconsistencies that I would most likely never even dream were a factor." I sighed, rubbing the back of my neck. "It makes him an excellent leader, warrior, prince… but it gives him an extra shield, even beyond that of his title. He's calculated things out, planned, accepted them… when something he didn't expect, never planned for happens… it throws him seriously off balance, makes him vulnerable until he has had time to recover. I know he was not expecting to have you as a friend again. I don't know that he will want to expend the energy and hurt needed to rid himself of this pain he has carried since her death."

Varith watched me for a long moment, then half-smiled and shook his head. "It's hard to believe, sometimes, that he wasn't always like that. There was a time when he wasn't so, we both know that… and yet… I no longer see that, see _him_."

"Leaf was left behind long ago—it was necessary."

He nodded with a sigh. "Yes. Because otherwise people around him might _hurt_ him." He drew his arms more tightly around himself.

"They still can, and do. He just withdraws slightly to help avoid it."

Varith's mouth was opening on some comment when the door opened. Legolas looked between us, his warm eyes going blank as he tilted his head, watching Varith. "Joining us for dinner, love?" he finally murmured, looking at me.

"I have no other plans," I murmured back. _Of course._ What other plans would I have made?

"Then we should go." He lifted his hand slightly, as if not really sure if he wanted to offer it to me or not.

I didn't bother to force a smile—he would know it was forced, and it would… well, it wouldn't sit well. I took his hand, and lifted a brow at Varith, pointing at the door. He snorted but preceded us.

Usually when something happened that would bug one of us, I would wait until he began talking about it. I might poke him, draw him from his thoughts somehow… but as time passed, I grew uncomfortable with the silence. Thranduil lifted a brow at me in question when Legolas continued to gaze absently beyond us both.

I shrugged and got up, pacing over to stare at the portrait again. I had seen the queen once, but it had been from an awkward angle, and more or less wrapped up in my mother's skirts. All I remembered was feeling very crowded, and seeing an elf with a pretty blue dress.

I looked at the dagger once more, at the faint hint of it behind the flowers that could be seen.

"Figures you would be interested in that."

I glanced at him over my shoulder. "Why did she have it?"

"She was the Queen, among wood elves. Wood elves being somewhat more wild and dangerous than other elves… she didn't feel right not carrying a dagger with her. It amused the artist that she wore one."

"But he didn't want to show it obviously."

"No." Thranduil smiled faintly at the picture.

"Do you have it?"

"No. She does." His eyes darkened a bit, but he smiled at me, setting a hand on my shoulder. "I have it's match, though, if you'd care to satisfy your professional curiosity."

I glanced back at Legolas, who was still in his absent phase, so I nodded. "If you don't mind."

"Hers I would have let only you see. Mine… it is but a dagger, like the one she had." He inclined his head slightly and left for his room, returning after a moment to hand me a dagger with an ornate sheath identical to the small bits of hers I could see. There was evidence of time, even where he had held it to hand to me. Dust coated my fingers, sticking in a grimy coat. The blade gleamed dully when I looked at it, curving twice before going straight with a killer point. It was a bit ornate for my personal tastes, but I liked it as very fine work on a professional level.

I ran my thumb down the blade, making a shining trail along the middle where the edges widened to form a ridge which snaked perfectly for strength and ease of use. After studying it a bit longer, I returned it to Thranduil with a nod.

Then I turned back, seeing Legolas still gazing blindly. My distraction spent, I took a deep breath, glancing at Thranduil, who lifted a brow but obediently headed into his room. With a sigh I crossed over to Legolas, kneeling on the ground, looking up at him for a while. I reached up and put my hand in his, then rested my chin on his knee. "Legolas?"

He blinked, and looked down at me, frowning faintly before tightening his fingers around mine. "Alye?"

"You usually start talking first… I'm not really sure how to start."

He smiled faintly, his thumb arching on the inside of my wrist. "What did he want?"

I smiled wryly. "Straight to the point works," I murmured. "He wanted me to say I'd do what I could to make sure you were getting over the pain of the past."

Slowly he nodded. "Something along those lines was all I could come up with for him to go to you."

I arched a brow at him.

He laughed softly, his free hand moving to my hair, smoothing it back before tangling at my nape. "I wondered how long it would take you to approach me…"

"You… _dwarf!_" I jumped up from my place, wrestling him down to the ground.

He laughed and twisted, rolling us into the table. Something crashed above us, making his eyes widen before he rolled to the side, pulling me over him before pushing again, atop me as the goblets fell with a clatter, spilling dark wine where we had been moments before. After watching for a moment, he looked down at me, smirking slightly as he moved my captured hands so he was holding both above my head, wrists pressed together so he had one hand free. "Knowing Gimli, and knowing he and I are friends… do you really think that holds the sting it once did?"

I smiled sheepishly and shrugged. "Old habits," I murmured absently.

"Hmm," he agreed, shifting so his weight was on his legs, rather than his free hand, using that hand to brush my hair from my face. His smile grew dangerous, just before his thumb ran slowly to the tip of my ear and down the outer curve… pausing for a moment before backtracking.

_"Legolas!"_

He laughed softly, closing the distance between us for a heated kiss. I was lost… and by the way he jumped a moment later, I would say he was too.

"—ngs out."

I blinked a few times, only to find Legolas watching me in amusement. I glanced at Thranduil, whose amusement was more obvious than his son's, and less… _masculine_… less_ pleased_. "What?" I asked, figuring out fairly well whatever he had said must have been directed at me.

"Things cleared up?"

I tilted my head, thinking for a moment before looking up at Legolas.

He smiled, bending to kiss me again before straightening slightly, straddling my middle, my hands still held in one of his… but he looked as though it was perfectly normal for us to be so positioned. "Forgiven my jealous twinges?"

"They're a part of you. As long as you don't do it so often I feel you don't trust me…" I felt heat rise into my ears. "I kind of like it."

His eyes brightened and heated, lids lowering a bit to help conceal it. He tugged on my hands, pulling me upright before threading my fingers together behind his head, using his freed hands to pull me closer.

Vaguely I heard a snort, but whatever it was and whatever it was about had no meaning as I tilted my head to accept Legolas's kiss. I pulled back when something solid and cold slid around my neck, settling heavily against my chest. I glanced down, seeing a metal glint before Legolas moved off of my legs, picking me up as he made his way to the large chair he had been in before our wrestling match. When he stilled, I reached beneath my shirt, pulling what he had fastened around me into the light. "Legolas?"

He traced the pattern of mithril, smiling faintly. "It is yours, after all. And fittingly beautiful."

I looked down at the pendant, having more or less forgotten about it. "The necklace was broken," I frowned, feeling the links for the break.

"Was. I had it fixed."

"By who?" He certainly hadn't asked me to… wait. "Was this what you were hesitating about?"

He murmured agreement, his eyes sparkling. "And then I held onto it for a while."

"Only a decade," I countered, before rolling my eyes. "Why now?"

He took in a deep breath and then shook his head, letting the breath out as a sigh. "I don't really know."

"I sincerely doubt that," I leaned back, looking up at him.

He smiled. "I don't. I've been holding onto it for so long… why now? Is it because old memories are surfacing and I want something solid to hold onto? Because Varith tried to make me jealous enough to ask you to be the princess before I've decided if I should ask now or when we're in the West? Or is it because I'm leaning towards now, because I'm starting to see I can't be any happier there without you than I would be here, on the shores when the longing has fully taken me?" A long fingered hand settled on my cheek, thumb arching beneath my eyes. "Well?" he whispered, eyes focused intently upon me.

"I don't know," I managed. "What do you think?"

"I think… that I've been a bit foolish to wait so long to ask."

"You hesitated for me."

"When you told me not to worry about you, that you would be with me."

"Which you knew was to comfort you."

"So you didn't mean it?" he asked, humor glinting in his eyes.

"Of course I did," I frowned. "And I do. I will go with you, willingly. But I can't say I won't look back until I've stood on the shores, until the longing has risen in me. Even when it has, when we cross, are there… I will likely miss the wood, the halls… things I've known here that simply are not there, and never can be. You can't tell me you won't do the same."

"I know I will," he agreed softly, kissing my forehead. "And the will to be here will remain until Father has crossed to join us." He smiled gently, shifting his hold on my cheek until his thumb could arch from chin to throat and back again. "But we're a bit off subject here."

"Are we?"

"Mm-hmm. After all, I was asking if you would take up the burden of a title."

"Is it so much a burden when it's shared?" I asked softly, hearing his heart was beating almost as quickly as mine.

"It hasn't been," he whispered, leaning his forehead against mine. "Well, love?"

For a moment stolen from time I gazed up at him, watching his bright eyes. The love they shown with was overwhelming, but what touched me most was the lack of worry. I smiled, reaching up to cup his face in my hands, stroking my thumbs beneath his eyes. "You know I will… as you know you shall have to help me, as the years have not done much to turn me into a lady."

He smiled faintly, but shook his head. "Sorry, my love, but you will not be a lady. You'll be a princess… and you are quite fitting for the role." With that said he dipped his head… and by the time my thoughts were pulled together enough to speak once more, the day's weariness had caught up with me, tempting me to slip into them untroubled. The last thing I was aware of was a gentle kiss to my forehead and being held close to familiar warmth.


	52. Shadows in the light

Okay, this is it. The final chapter of Among the Brambles. Thanks for reading, thanks for reviewing--this was a slightly different writting style I enjoyed experimenting with. Hope you all enjoyed it as well!

Well, last time I updated I'd written up here like usual, but apparently forgot to save. So, I'll be answering any previous questions... if there were any.

LJP: Well, not really questions from chapter 50 as annoyed rantings at my vastly overthinking Legolas. Which is fine, because I was ready to shake him at times. As for chapter 50... I'm never sure about the word mush coming up in a review. I'll just hope you didn't have to run for your toothbrush... and won't need to for this chapter.

The Hobbit Ivy: Well, thank you. And rest assured, this is the last chapter. Complete in 52 chapters. You started reading a week early to save yourself anticipation.

Animir: One of the best types of reviewers! Constant and appreciative (kind of like most author's feelings towards the best reviewers).

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_**Chapter 52**_

Ambivalent.

That one word summed up how I was feeling right now.

Actually… ambivalence would have been nice. I wasn't really ambivalent, but I figured if I told myself that often enough, I might make it. Eomer was long dead, but seeing his descendants on his throne, carrying the sword I'd forged for him… Even worse was going to Gondor and finding Estel's son on his throne, looking much like Estel had the last time I'd seen him…

On top of those depressing sights, far, far behind me were the two woods that had become home. They weren't really so far. We could return in a matter of weeks… but we weren't going to. I would never see the Greenwood again. Never see Fangorn.

I tightened my arms around Legolas, swallowing hard as I pressed my cheek to his shoulder. He tensed slightly, wrapping me in his arms.

"You can go back, if you go now," he whispered, voice low and tortured.

For an instant, I seriously considered it. I could go back, back to Greenwood, and spend a few years with Thranduil… before I went stir-crazy without Legolas. I shook my head slightly, smiling a bit tightly at him when I pulled back.

"You're sure?"

I watched his eyes for a moment. They were deeply shadowed, concerned for me, and yet ecstatic. He was so close to stilling the longing in his heart, and that joy was overcoming the thought of leaving things behind. Like his father. His people. His lands… but not so much his friends, as Gimli and I were with him. The others from our time in the wood had either crossed, or fallen out of touch with us when we decided to test out Fangorn for the last years, seeing if we could really let another wood substitute for own. As for me… I was leaving Taradriel, though I'd left her in Greenwood for Fangorn… a few fair friends in the halls… again, mostly left when we went to Fangorn, though a few went with us… and Thranduil. He would be joining us, in time. Of course, all that waited for us in the west were a few friends we weren't really close to, and my father. "As long as you remain with me."

He pulled back from contemplating what was just over the rise, and studied me for a moment, his eyes darkening again. "Of course, love. And, knowing what he did, there are few who would fail to be wary should he be alone with you."

I rolled my eyes skyward, but my retort was broken off as a bird winged into view.

"A seagull," Legolas murmured softly into my ear.

"I _know_," I muttered, trying to calm my suddenly rapid heart and breathing. I turned, looking at that last rise. "So… over that."

"Yes, dear elf."

I stared at it for a while, leaning against him when he moved closer, his arms wrapping around my waist. So, all I had to do was move forward, head over that slight rise, and get into the boat that Legolas had made, and let it take us into the west. It sure didn't sound like something difficult to do… and yet, I wasn't doing it. I took another deep breath, hearing the gulls, smelling salt. Already I could feel _something_ threatening to rise within me. "It's scary, Legolas."

His head tilted down beside mine. "Is it?"

"Knowing that those steps will mean I won't feel right here any more… this has been _home_, Legolas. It is scary."

"Yes, it has been home." He kissed me lightly behind my ear.

I closed my eyes, knowing I was being silly, that I would find my place on the other shore, that I would be _fine_… but it was somehow so much scarier than traipsing through the wood at the ripe-old age of eight, scarier than facing down orcs as the world burned around me, scarier than traveling to Gondor the first time… and far scarier than getting married. That hadn't been scary, really, though my nerves were somewhat shot thanks to the hectic work of keeping everyone else from running things until the actual event—I _was not_ going to have one of those overdone, false weddings as so many kept on insisting was the Prince's due. I'd been fine as soon as Legolas had my hand, whispering his translation of the words his father spoke so _I_ could understand them.

And now… I was, frankly, on the ragged edge of panic. I knew that when I moved forward, I would probably be lost to the longing myself, and my fears would be quieted, my worries washed away, and I would go on, happily waiting for the other shore to show up. But that thought—that what I was currently feeling would be destroyed like shadows in the light… it was, well, _scary_. It's not a nice idea, and I hadn't even thought on embracing it.

Legolas, though, hadn't that moment of panic I was going through, not that he would have necessarily remembered it at the moment. He was being very good, remaining behind me, silent, not cajoling or coaxing, simply waiting… but he was going to go, and he was going to go today.

I would be with him.

There was no question about that, not really. One more deep breath, and I forced myself to take a step. Legolas followed, his arms just loose enough to allow me to move as I took another step. Well, the old saying was right—the first step is the hardest. Soon enough we were standing on the top of that rise, and the sea stretched endlessly before us, salty and sweet, beautiful and bitter.

Legolas took a deep breath, his arms tightening as he dropped another kiss behind my ear. "Love?"

Looking forward, the longing rose within me, but it was greatly tempered. Home wasn't before me, nor was it any longer behind me. It was in the arms around me, the body against my own, the tender concern in the voice that brushed my ears so gently. I turned my head enough to see his eyes, lifting a hand to brush his cheek as I kissed him. "I'm fine."

Gimli was already sitting in the boat, grumbling occasionally as he shifted within it. He glanced back at us, then snorted and turned back to look out at the approaching waves.

I smiled slightly as I heard him grumbling about immortals taking their royal time, and stepped forward, taking Legolas's hand in my own, heading down to the water. Once beside the boat I turned, looking back at the rise he had led me to, carefully assuring I wouldn't see the sea until I was ready to. Now I could see miles of land beyond… I inclined my head to the land, a silent goodbye. I turned to find Legolas watching me, waiting. I looked ahead, and then smiled at him. "Let's go."

He brought our entwined hands to his lips, then helped me into the craft he'd built, following quickly. The sea embraced us, murmuring delightedly at our intended journey. I leaned back against my prince, my husband, my lover, friend, and home, smiling slightly, my eyes closed contentedly as we were carried off for another adventure we would brave together.


End file.
